The Forever Mage
by Darth Marrs
Summary: Harry Potter/ST:NG era post movies crossover. A young man with messy hair and green eyes finds himself in the middle of 24th Century Scotland with no memories. Join him as he tries to solve not only who he is, but where his people are.
1. Momento Mori

**The Forever Mage**

A Harry Potter/Star Trek Crossover

By Darth Marrs

**Author's Note:**

Star Trek's future history is a bit of a conundrum for fans. When Gene Roddenberry first penned the series in the 1960s, he could not have possibly imagined it would be around decades later, especially not as the popular franchise it eventually became. So the dates of the most formative events in his "Future History" have long since come and gone.

Most notable of these are the Eugenics Wars, which according to Roddenberry were fought in the 1990s and featured the genetically augmented Khan Noonien Singh, who in 1992 was absolute ruler of a quarter of the planet from Asia to the Middle East. People followed him because of his strength, intelligence, mesmerizing voice, and the most awesome pecs ever.

For the purpose of this story, I've chosen to honor these dates as an alternate history to our own. Within context of the Harry Potter stories, I think this is doable. Nothing in HP specifically contradicts the events of ST history, since Harry's story takes place almost solely in wizarding England and much of the Eugenics War was fought in Asia and Africa. I did however have to nudge Khan's fall back a few years from 1996 to 1999. There are one or two other small changes to Star Trek canon to better fit the story. I'll try to notate them as I go along.

This particular story takes place in 2392. The use of Stardates for the purpose of this story is restricted to active duty Starfleet while Earth civilians still generally use the modern calendar. To put it in perspective, _Voyager_ ended 2378. The Battle of Cadassia Prime which ended _Deep Space 9_ occurred in 2375. I'm avoiding stardates because in reality no one, not even Gene Roddenberry himself, knew what the hell stardates actually were. Producers literally made up numbers based any given season of TNG. This story will not take into account the further alternate history created by the events of JJ Abrams' _Star Trek_ or any novels, since the evil B&B Twins (Berman and Braga) discarded written canon (or even established canon) at will.

Also, please note that this is a sequel of sorts to my story _Harry Potter and the Four Founders_ in so far as Harry had five wives and the plot device at the end of Four Founders is the same device used to deliver Harry to the far future. You don't have to read the first to enjoy this. However, it couldn't hurt. I mention this because if you wanted to read _Four Founders_, there will be spoilers for it. However, I cannot stress enough for fans of _Four Founders_ that this is a completely different type of story. If there was one word I could use for this fic, it would be _Bittersweet_. It does not contain any of the crack!fic elements from _Four Founders_ and is generally more dramatic in nature. It also has a more sedate pace.

One last thing, and I'm sorry for these many notes. This story is rated M. There will probably be some sex. FYI. Also, I don't own either the Star Trek properties or Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction with no intention for sale or profit. Thank you.

* * *

**Chapter One: Memento Mori**

"Sweetie, you don't have to do this. It's morbid," Jennifer Chamberlain said.

Susan looked from her mother to her father, and then down at the urn that contained Grams' ashes. "She asked me to."

Susan's father Peter shook his head. "She asked you to take her ashes across the planet and dump them in a lake next to an old ruin." He sniffed and looked at Jennifer. "It's always your side of the family.

Jennifer slapped his shoulder playfully. "At least mine has personality. Your family reunions feel like they've been pre-recorded and we're forced to watch the playback in slow motion."

Susan snickered despite herself. "I love them, but your family is kind of slow, dad," she said.

"Well, something good must have come from it, miss future Daystrom Institute analyst."

Susan blushed and looked back down at the urn. "Well, are you sure you're okay with this?"

"It's no worse than last summer when you went to Tycho City," Susan's mother said. "At least this year you're staying on the ground. I'm not very happy about that stipulation in the will about the alcohol, though."

This time, Susan grinned. "Good old Grams. Those Scots knew how to throw a party. Thanks for the permission slip. They wouldn't transport me with it otherwise."

The three of them looked up as the rest of their party arrived at the transport hub. Diana Boxing was at the forefront, laughing at something Mary Caraough had said. The two walking together were a striking pair. Diana was petite, with classically porcelain skin that she despised and bright strawberry blonde hair framing an oval, heavily freckled face. Beside her, Mary's dark skin was a sharp contrast, though her features were Gallic, as were her green eyes. The girls' parents came behind, carrying their backpacks.

Close behind Mary came Katherine Dunningham, flanked by her mother, Commander Marilyn Dunningham, who was home on extended shore leave from Starfleet. Like her mother, Katherine was the tallest of the group with shoulder-length blonde hair and laughing blue eyes that looked out from a tanned face.

Staring at these girls, Susan realized that they were the best friends she was likely to ever have, and that this was probably going to be the last time they were all together like this.

The parents made their polite greetings while Mary, Diana and Katherine formed a little circle around the urn. "This is so strange," Katherine said. "She asked for the four of us by name?"

Susan nodded. "But she also asked that we toast her with traditional Scottish whiskey. My parents signed the release. I have a big bottle of Glenfiddich in my pack."

Katherine grinned while the other two girls shared a giggle.

"So where is it we're going?" Mary asked.

"That, girls, is the surprise," Susan said. "Grams asked that her ashes be thrown to the wind on the shores of a lake by the ruins of a haunted castle in Scotland." She glanced over their shoulders at their parents. "In fact, it's the most haunted castle in the world."

Mary's eyes widened. "You mean…"

"Yes. Girls, we're going to Hogwarts."

* * *

No one knew how old Grams was. It came as a shock that the flier for her memorial did not have a date of birth. It was known that she was well over a century old, though. When Susan asked, her mother smiled and said, "Susan, your grandmother called her Grams too. The only reason she isn't listed as the oldest biological human alive is because all her birth records were lost."

As old as Grams was, though, she always welcomed Susan during her mid-term school breaks with exuberance. "The woman has enough grandchildren to fill a space cruiser," Peter once complained. "Why is Susan the only one she ever has over?"

Jennifer Chamberlain would almost smile when her husband asked them and would run a finger through Susan's curly auburn hair. "Because our little girl is special," she would say.

Susan would blush and smile prettily, and then wonder herself why Grams always seemed so much more excited to see her than any of the rest of her huge family. Of the people at her memorial, over one hundred had claim to be descendents. And although all of them had at one time or another visited Grams, Susan was the only one who had been to Grams' house in Scotland more than once. She was also the only one to bring friends to stay for a while.

Susan still remembered that day when Grams met her best friends. The ancient eyes lit up in absolutely delight as she shook their hands. "Such a pleasure to meet you!" she insisted as she showed them in. "Such special girls!"

If it weren't for the fact that they all felt so perfectly at ease with both Gram and the house, it would have seemed a little creepy.

Grams lived outside of Edinburgh in a small town called Cramond. While it was always too cold in winter and the days way too long in summer, Susan always enjoyed her visits. Grams house was…peaceful. The house simply felt right for some reason. It felt as if when she walked through the door the house itself welcomed her. Her friends reported feeling the same way.

And now, Grams had appointed her with this one, final task. Take her ashes to Scotland and spread them over the lake. There was another task in a sealed packet stuffed in her back, with explicit instructions not to open until she reached her final destination.

"Are you girls ready?" Commander Dunningham said.

Katherine's mother was a stern-faced woman who had all of Katherine's beauty without the younger girl's smile or charm.

When the girls nodded, the commander handed each of them a small tube the size of their thumbs. "Emergency beacons," she explained. "Just throw them in your backpacks. If you have an accident while hiking, just thumb the switch and help will be there instantly."

"Thank you, Marilyn," Susan's mother said. "We should have thought of that."

Commander Dunningham shrugged. "My husband assures me that it's paranoia. However, I like to call it being prepared."

"Thanks, Mother," Katherine said. She did not hug the woman; rather they shook hands like casual acquaintances. Diana, however, turned and wrapped her mother in a huge. Mary did the same with her parents, both of whom had come to the hub.

"Chamberlain, party of four. Transport in five minutes." The announcement rang through the hub.

Susan turned and hugged her mother. "Thank you for letting me do this."

Jennifer Chamberlain gave her daughter a kiss. "It always tickled me the way you hit it off with Grams. She was a very special woman, and the fact she thought so very much of you proves that you are too. Have fun. Seize this moment. The memories you make will be with you forever."

"I know, Mom," Susan said. "Love you." She gave her dad a peck on the cheek. "Love you too, Dad."

"Me too, sweetie," he said.

With final farewells, the four girls walked across the floor toward the public transporter. They waited their turn, and when their names were called they stepped onto the platform. Susan gave her parents one last wave before San Francisco disappeared in a flash of white light.

They arrived a split second later. When they left, it was an abysmal five in the morning. When they arrived in Edinburgh, it was one in the afternoon. Rather than get started to Hogwarts, they took a public tram up to Cramond.

Grams' house was exactly like Susan remembered it. She slipped in the key she was given at the will reading and opened the door.

The furniture was covered in white sheets, but it did not appear anything had been moved. "Did she really leave this to you?" Katherine asked as the other girls stepped in behind her.

"She did," Susan said, breathing in the familiar smells of the house. It did not smell dusty despite sitting vacant for a month. Instead it smelled like fresh-baked bread; of honey and thyme and cedar. It smelled like Grams. "Mom said I had more than a few distant cousins who were not happy about it. Someone even flew in from Proxima for the will reading. Grams had a lot of assets."

"You mean money?"

"For what good it did," Susan said with a shrug.

There was a common misconception among some members of the Federation that Earth did not use money. In point of fact that was false. Earth and the other core Federation planets had a vibrant financial credit system. However, with essentials such as food, transportation and even basic housing provided free to all residents and a standard income levy of 50%, money was simply not as important as it once was. It was the very rare person who accumulated wealth for the sake of being wealthy. Individuals with such competitive spirits usually found themselves recruited into Starfleet, where their competitive natures were put to better use. Wealth bought very little that people couldn't get for free if needed.

"Susan, look!" Diana said.

Susan followed her hand into the spacious kitchen of the centuries-old house. A large piece of paper sat on the counter with a hand written note.

Susan couldn't help but feel her eyes water as she read a message from the dead.

"What's it say?" Mary said.

Susan cleared her throat. "It said that all four of us should consider this our home when we need it. That we are all welcome." She smiled at her three best friends. "I think she liked you girls as much as I do."

"I hope so," Katherine said with a shudder. "I'd hate to think she didn't adore me."

"Everyone adores you," Mary told her.

"Even you?" Katherine said, battering her lashes outrageously. "Give me a kiss?"

"Stuff it, you," Mary said with a laugh. They stopped laughing as they again looked at the letter. "So, Susan, think we can really look around?"

Susan very carefully folded up the letter and slipped it into the pocket of her slacks. "I don't see why not. Let's go."

Their exploration unearthed many unexpected treasures. For one, Grams' garden was awash with more plants than anyone of them had ever seen, even at the Federation Gardens. It helped that the house rested on a solid acre of property backing up to the sea. That late in the summer at that latitude, they had plenty of sunlight with which to explore. They found trunks and trunks of clothes from almost every era the girls could imagine. They found first edition books from hundreds of years ago, and collections of old media of types even Mary the historian had a hard time figuring out.

However, what Susan was most interested in was a photo album that she found atop a white sheet-covered coffee table in the music room. It was hugely thick, and creaked when she opened it up. She sat on the couch behind the table, across from the piano that dominated most of the room.

Eventually, Diana, who of the three was Susan's closest friend, sat down beside her and watched her as she looked at the contents. "Er, Sue, why are all the pictures of girls?"

"I was just wondering that," Susan admitted. The other girls wandered in and, curiosity set, came over and stuffed themselves onto the sheet-covered couch beside the first girls.

"Wow," Mary whispered. "Look at the date on that picture."

Susan looked and bit her lip. The date read 2101. "Yeah, saw that."

"That was in the middle of the Post Atomic Horror," Mary whispered. The young historian pointed to another picture. "That one says 2120. That one 2123. Turn the page."

Susan did so, trying in the meantime to hide the tremor in her hands. She felt a strange sense of fear and anticipation, but she didn't know why. The writing was all in her Grams' flowery script and seemed as old as the pictures. One picture with the date 2207 was circled with a large star. But underneath it was another note hastily written in pencil. "No others found."

Down through the ages they flipped. All the pictures looked like they were of girls in ages from sixteen to eighteen—in other words, the ages of Susan and her friends.

"Susan, you know, this is sort of creepy," Katherine said. "What's this book about?"

"I don't know," Susan admitted.

They found another picture from 2256 circled. Again it was accompanied by a note. This time it said, "Only one other. Not enough!!!"

So it went, page after page of hundreds and hundreds of girls. As they approached modern times, Susan began to recognize names. Distant elderly cousins and aunts. Her grandmother. Her mother.

The very last page held just one picture. It was of a girl with curly auburn hair, a heart-shaped face and a nose a tad too long to be considered truly beautiful. Intelligent hazel eyes stared out with a slight smile, as if she held a secret no one else knew.

It was Susan's school picture from three years ago, when she was fifteen.

Her hand shook as she touched it. The picture had three red-ink circles drawn around it. And underneath were names.

Diane Boxing, Phoenix.

Mary Caraough, Paris

Katherine Dunningham, San Francisco.

"Susan," Katherine whispered. "How well did your Grams know us?"

"Before last year, she didn't know you at all."

Diane reached down and touched the words that held her name. "Mum decided to move to 'Cisco out of the blue. Just one day she said she wasn't happy in Phoenix any more. Said the sun was bad for my skin. She never explained why."

"My parents wanted to open a restaurant," Mary said. When she was truly emotional, a little bit of her French ancestry showed through. At the moment, she sounded as if she were still in Paris. "I never understood why they chose San Francisco. The city already has several good French restaurants."

"Look at the date."

"Twenty-three eighty-nine," Susan said. "The year we met each other."

"The year we became friends," Katherine echoed. She looked up at the others, wide-eyed. "Susan, did your Grams have something to do with us meeting each other?"

"I don't see how she could have," Susan said. "Or even why she would have. And she didn't make us become friends." She closed the book. "We did that all on our own. And it's not like she's asked us to do anything… Oh, wait. She did."

She stood abruptly and walked across to the floor by the kitchen where they had left their backpacks. She pulled out the box with the writing on it. "She left this with the urn," she explained to the other girls. "It says not to open it until we get to Hogwarts."

"To hell with that," Katherine said. "I'm not going anywhere until I find out why there are three hundred year's worth of pictures of young girls with your Grams' handwriting under them, and why she happened to know where we lived three years ago."

When her other two friends nodded their agreement, Susan opened the package, which was heavier than it looked. She up-ended it over the table and four things fell out. The first was a heavy metal cross that landed against the table with a loud thunk. The cross looked as if it had been exposed to extreme temperature and was even sharpened and cracked at one end.

The second item was a book that appeared to have been retrieved from a fire. The third item was a wooden stick perhaps 40 centimeters in length. It appeared to be ornately carved with bulbs every few centimeters until it came to a narrow point.

The last item was a holographic disk.

"Well?" Katherine demanded.

"I'm being silly," Susan admitted as she wiped suddenly sweaty hands against her slacks. She placed the plate-sized disk on the floor, activated it and sat back down with her friends. She smiled despite the situation when she felt three arms reach across her back to comfort her.

Suddenly Grams stood before them, withered and bent over with extreme age. Yet her voice was young and lively when she said, "Caught you! I knew you wouldn't wait before you opened that box!"

Susan couldn't help it. She laughed, and the other girls relaxed a little.

"I'm sure by now you've explored the house," Margaret said. "And you've found the picture book. I left it out for you. I figured if you didn't find it, your friend Mary would have. I've been waiting for you a long time, Susan. For you and your friends. You could say waiting for you was the only thing that kept me alive all these years. And when I found you, I knew that rest would come soon."

"Grams," Susan whispered.

"I can't tell you everything, dear, because some things must be experienced to be believed. But I want you to know that you and your friends are special. Each of you embodies a special trait. Katherine, you are brave and bold, and willing to take risks others are not. The fact a berth at Starfleet Academy is waiting for you is proof of that courage. Diana, sweet child, you are the most loyal girl I have ever known. When you stayed with Mary during her mother's illness, it was done so with no thought to yourself. I have a feeling you would gladly die for any of your friends, if you had to. And it is this same loyalty that has caused you to feel so lost and torn when thinking about your future. You realize you're going to lose your friends to their careers, and the thought fills you with dread."

"How'd she know about mother's illness?" Mary said.

"How'd she know I stayed with you?" Diana asked more quietly. "Or what I was thinking?"

"And you, Mary, are brilliant in your studies. The many invitations you've had for archeological societies and the multitude of languages is ample evidence that you are a born scholar."

"And you, my sweet Susan, you are ambitious and cunning without being cruel or selfish. You seek to better yourself and your friends. Although Katherine gives you courage, Mary gives you thoughtfulness and Diana gives you loyalty, it is your ambition that drives the four of you. Together, you make each other better people."

Grams paused, as if debating something with herself. "You should know, Susan, that I am not actually a blood relation to you or any of your family. My children were adopted. I was rendered sterile by the same method that allowed me to live so very long. And I have lived a long time—longer than anyone on this planet. I remember when the first Vulcans arrived. I saw Colonel Green."

She took a deep breath. "I hid in the attic of this very house when his soldiers took my grand mum away. Know that I have been waiting for these many centuries for you, and your friends. The contents of the box are the only heirlooms I have from my family. I want them to be left at Hogwarts with my ashes. I am the last of my family, and there is one last thing I would ask of you. Though the book was badly burned, I've marked one page that survived. It is an old ritual to celebrate the end of a family bloodline. Sort of like the memorial you had to remember me, this ritual will be a memorial to remember my family, of which I am the last. But it requires four young women of loving hearts and pure souls. And that's why I've waited so long. Because all four of you are as loving as any children I have ever known, and your souls are pure.

"Do this ritual for me. Let my family rest finally in peace. Do this, and all that I own will be yours. I love you, little Sue."

The image faded, only to come back a moment later. "And in case you're parents said no to the whiskey, look in the cellar. Love you."

"I wonder if she means we're virgins," Mary said into the sudden silence.

"Like Katherine's a virgin," Susan muttered, blushing despite herself. "What about Edward?"

"Hugged me and cried," Katherine admitted. "Got half way there. He saw my boobs and just withered like a plant."

"You're joking!" Mary said, aghast. "He looked so delicious. I wouldn't have made him cry."

"What about Krang?" Diana asked the dark-skinned girl.

"He was Klingon!" Mary said in horror.

"I'm told they're very well endowed," Susan noted.

"I don't want my first time to rip me open," Mary exclaimed. "Besides, he was a jerk. Kept wanting to show me his bat'leth."

"I bet he did," Katherine giggled.

The girls all laughed, until finally Diana said, "How did Grams know we were all virgins? I mean, all of us are seventeen, except for Susan who just turned eighteen. We're all cute. I mean, you three are just gorgeous. That's not normal, isn't it? Outside of you three, everyone else I know has had sex before."

"Yeah," Susan said. "What else is there to do? After a while everything gets kind of boring. No risks, nothing really exciting. So all the girls do it as soon as they can. Why not? Can't get pregnant on prevshots. Can't get any diseases. Just need a willing boy."

"Wish it were that easy," Mary said. "There are lots of willing boys. It's me who's been unwilling."

Katherine shrugged. "I was willing."

Diana smiled. "I knew Edward wasn't right for you."

"Should have told me and saved me the embarrassment of having my boobs cried on."

"I did tell you," Diana said. "You told me I was just jealous."

"Yeah, because every girl wants to get their boobs cried on," Mary said.

Susan looked at their laughing faces. She had known each of them for only three years, but it felt as if she had known them for her whole life. "Do you realize that after the summer term we're going to be finished with formal schooling? And what have we done so far? Tycho City was a joke. There wasn't anything really exciting there. Everything was kept perfectly safe. Nothing truly exciting."

"Until now," Katherine said.

"Until now," Susan agreed. "Because tomorrow morning we going to hike across the Scottish moors to the only place on Earth classified by rated psionics as truly haunted, to perform a ritual celebrating the end of my Grams' family."

"At the request of a woman," Mary added, "who, if she was telling the truth, remembers seeing the worst mass-murderer in history over three hundred years ago."

Katherine stood up. "I'm going to find that cellar, and I'm going to get drunk."


	2. Ghosts

Author's Responses at the end:

* * *

**Chapter Two: Ghosts**

"Are we there yet?" Mary asked.

Katherine blew a strand of blonde hair from her eyes. "Good grief Mary, we've only been hiking for couple of hours."

Mary gave the older girl an uncouth salute. "Not all of us are athletes, you know."

Behind Mary, Diana snorted. "My feet hurt."

"My head hurts," Mary said, almost moaning.

"Why didn't you take a pill?" Diana asked.

"I don't like pills," Mary groaned. "Where's a hypo when you need one?"

Diana grinned, dug into her pack and pulled out a small tube. She opened it and tossed a tablet to her friend. "Here."

Mary snatched it out of the air and swallowed it dry. Just moments later she visibly relaxed. "Better."

"Got any extra?" Katherine asked, a little bleary-eyed.

"God, you girls are silly," Diana said, even as she tossed another pill. "You didn't think to pack hangover meds when you heard Susan was going to have whiskey?"

"Never had whiskey before," Mary muttered.

"Me neither," Diana admitted with a grin. "My mom gave me these. She has a lot."

"Still don't know why we just didn't use the transporter," Mary said.

"It's a black out site," Susan explained for the second time that morning since the trolley had dropped them off for their hike into the moors. "Residual radioactive isotopes in the soil make beaming into it marginally unsafe. Like one in a million chance of a malfunction. So naturally you can't do it at all. Couldn't actually take a chance on anything, now, could we?"

"Good thing we liked your Grams," Mary said.

"The woman gave us her liquor cabinet," Katherine said. "You're the historian. You think about what some of that stuff was worth. I don't think we could even get some of that stuff. Did you see that brandy from 2102? As far as I'm concerned, we owe her now." She adjusted her pack as she sat down. "Still, I'd like to see the book again if I could."

Susan nodded, her face coming alight as she pulled the book out of her backpack. The other girls gathered around. They paged through it, careful of the scorched pages. They caught titillating hints of words and pictures and diagrams, but nothing legible enough to be fully understood. That is, except for the one page with the diagram of the ritual. A ritual that required four girls with "pure" souls.

"Alright," Susan finally said as she put the book up. "Break's over. My tracker says it's only another ten miles."

The trek continued. Sometimes they would sing; most often they talked about boys or other girls in their classes. Though none of them ever spoke about it aloud, each realized that they had formed a clique with each other because none other would accept them. Though they were all pretty enough, evidently they were never popular enough. They were…different.

When they crested one last stony mountain and stared down at the remnants of the castle, their watches told them it was nearly eight in the evening despite the sun still shining over the horizon.

The lake sparkled under the sunlight. This far north in June, the sun would not even set until close to ten that evening, and would rise before five the following morning. "Look," Mary said, pointing at the wide swath of ground between them and the lake. "You can see stumps still. Even after three hundred years. There was a forest there."

Indeed, they could see a few stumps and even one or two long mounds that looked like they were ancient tree trunks that were so large they had not fully rotted away even after several centuries. They started down the slopes of the mountain and walked through the charred remnants of what had to have been a large forest. Ahead they could see a slight rise next to the lake, and atop that rise was a pile of rocks that was their destination.

"No vegetation at all," Mary noted. "You sure this place was scrubbed after the war?"

Katherine, though, gave a fake cough and held up a radiation sensor. "My mom. She read about Hogwarts and said that the whole 'haunted' thing was nonsense and probably just lingering radiation. But it's clear—I'm not reading anything close to dangerous levels."

They kept walking. There was very little breeze in the valley. In fact, the air felt oddly cold compared to the pleasant breeze that had accompanied them through their hike across the Moors. Diana even pulled a sweater from her back, though after she put it on she confessed it didn't help very much.

Susan shrugged and they continued toward their goal.

When they arrived at Hogwarts, it seemed clear just from the stone foundation that it had been a large building. "Mary, going to do any scans?" Diana asked with a smirk.

Mary's eyes widened. "Of course!" She reached into her back and removed her 'corder. It was a specialized tricorder for archeological research. She turned it on, but then grimaced. "Urrggh!"

"What's wrong?" Susan asked.

"Blasted thing is on the fritz again."

"I thought you got it fixed last term," Diana said.

"I did."

"Can I see?" Susan took the tricorder and ran a diagnostic. She looked up at the girls, then around the ruins. "It's not the code or the system. It's getting interference."

Katherine blanched. "You mean like radiation interference? The scanner doesn't get everything. There might be some type of exotic isotope. You said this place was within safe limits!"

"It is!" Susan said. "At least that's what the Demo file said. It was hit three hundred years ago. The soil and atmo scrubbers cleaned it up. It shouldn't still be dangerous."

Katherine removed her com. "Mom, can you hear me?"

Nothing. The other girls tried their coms with the same effect. Finally, Susan said, "Calm down! It's probably just local interference. You all called home at lunch before we got on the tram, and we've only walked twenty kilometers since then. It's probably just an effect of the lingering isotopes and the shape of the valley. It's nothing to go insane over. Besides, we have the emergency beacon. Come on, let's take care of business."

The cold breeze had picked up. They made it to the shore of the lake. Susan looked at her friends, who smiled back sadly. With a sigh, she removed the urn from her backpack. "Well, Grams, here you go. I hope you finally get to rest. Love you."

She up-ended the urn, expecting the ashes to drift gently into the water. However, at that precise moment a breeze blew in from across the lake. The ashes actually drifted over their heads and floated gently toward the hill in the distance where the castle ruins stood.

"That was weird," Diana said.

"Haunted, remember?" Mary said.

Without another word, they gathered their belongings and started up the hill until they reached the ruins. The castle must have been very impressive, Susan thought. The floor plan alone was huge. The hill was not so much a rise as a plateau. Nothing grew up between the stonework, so the foundation was exactly as it was when the castle still stood. Some parts weathered the destruction better than others. There was a partial stairwell that gave the girls an opportunity to look over the grounds around the castle.

Though the moors themselves were brilliantly green with the short growing season, Hogwarts valley was utterly desolate. "This was supposed to be ground zero for the last nuke fired during the war," Mary said. "Don't see how, though. There's no impact crater. I mean, sure the castle blew apart, but conventional explosives of the time could have done that. And look at the debris field."

They could see stonework and masonry in rings spreading out from their position. "It looks like the castle blew up from the inside. Don't know of many nukes that do that. In fact, there shouldn't be anything that big left it this was ground zero."

Diana shivered and pulled out her own sweater. "Why is it so bloody cold here?" She pulled the tie from her strawberry blonde hair and let if fall around her neck in the hopes of providing some warmth.

"I don't know," Susan finally admitted. She herself shivered. "Seems like a good time to set up our camp, though."

"Hope the heater works," Mary said.

"Should," Katherine told them. "It's a chemical heater, so no electronics for the isotopes to jam up."

The four girls made their way back down the remnant of the stairs until they came across a depression in the center of the castle that seemed warmer to them that the rest. They set up the heater, which true to Katherine's predictions soon started pouring out glorious heat and light to the girls.

"Figure this was a Jacuzzi?" Susan asked, pointing at the slightly sunken circle that took up the center of the depression. "Looks like the circle from the book."

"Maybe, but more likely it was a well," Mary explained. It was still light, but getting late. Each removed their meal packs and soon were laughing and talking about their hopes and dreams over their meals; or about the fact none of them had had a satisfactory date despite the bevy of boys in their classes. Katherine's experience with Edward was the farthest any of them had gone, and it did not look hopeful.

"Well, ladies, since we know Diana here has the antidote, I feel it's time to toast Grams." Susan removed the bottle of whiskey her parents bought. Each girl removed their travel cups, and in moments they were full.

All four stood. "To Grams," Susan said. "Who was a lot stranger than even we realized, but who I loved anyway. May she rest in peace."

"Here here!" the others said, before downing their shots.

By the bottom of the bottle, all were feeling more than just a little tipsy. Katherine, after her third cup, stood up. "I'd like to make an…er." She stopped and swayed a little in confusion.

"Announcement?" Susan asked helpfully.

"That's right!" Katherine nodded firmly. "Decided not to go to Starfleet."

The three other girls stared at her, flabbergasted. Finally, Mary started laughing. "You're having us on. You've wanted into Starfleet since that time you met Captain Riker!"

"Loved his beard," Katherine confirmed. She sat down with a giggle. "Can you believe he married that Betazed woman? She was sooo ugly!"

"I thought she was pretty," Mary said.

"You're pretty," Katherine corrected. "She was ugly."

"Why, though?" Susan asked, curious. "I mean about Starfleet. You've been talking about the Academy for months. You designed your whole class schedule to prepare for it. And what about your mom? What will she say?"

Katherine sunk in on herself. "Don't know," she admitted, suddenly on the verge of sobbing. "Just doesn't feel right. Nothing feels right."

Mary scooted around the lip of the circular depression and put her left arm around her friend's shoulders. Susan studied the two best friends, so radically different in appearance and yet closer than anyone else in the quartet. Both were stunningly beautiful in their own way, and Susan couldn't help but feel a little jealous.

"What about you, Mary?" Susan asked. "Still going to join the Terran Archeological Society?

"What else is there?" Mary said even as she kept an arm around Katherine. She motioned the castle around them. "As strange as this place is, it's places like this where I feel at home most. I can't stand the cities. Never could."

Susan turned to petite Diana. "And you?"

Diana shrugged and finished her shot of whiskey. She smacked her lips and giggled. It was an oddly sad sound. "Grams was right. I have no idea. Don't even like to think about it. Without you three…." She sniffed. The whiskey had gotten to her as well. "Never really had friends before, not like you three. And after this next term, we probably won't ever be like this again. Susan, you'll be at the Daystrom Institute, Mary will be off digging somewhere and Katherine—Kate—with your grades and looks you can go anywhere you want. I'll probably just take over the flower shop for mother."

Susan smiled and scooted to the younger girl's side to give her a long hug. As she did so, she felt their eyes on her. "What about you?" Mary asked.

"I'm supposed to meet with the Daystrom people next month." Susan let her arm drop from Diana's shoulders, shivered and wrapped her own shawl tightly around her shoulders. "I know I should go. It's an incredible opportunity. There are only twenty- three candidates across the entire Federation and most are Vulcan. Seven of Nine is there, and she's famous. I'm just not sure I want to. Stupid, I know."

The other girls nodded in understanding.

Susan finished off the last of the whiskey straight from the bottle and with a sudden grin she pulled out her book. The sky overhead was dark and had been so for well over an hour and a half as the girls talked. "Are we ready to start the ritual for Grams, then?"

Everyone gathered around once more to examine the book in the orange light of the heater. Diana looked up in confusion. "What are these strange names for? Hufflepuff? Ravenclaw? What kind of names are those?"

"Probably local deities," Mary surmised. "See how the wording is? It's an invocation, asking for the local deities to help raise the Lord of Light. Sounds almost like some type of Arthurian legend. It does make sense, though, if this really is a ritual to help the end of the bloodline. Maybe the Lord of Light is an old name for the Judeo-Christian God to come and guide the ancestors of the terminated family line to heaven. See the incantation? 'I would die for him' has very Christian overtones to it. I wonder if Grams was religious."

"She never cursed," Susan said. "At least nothing we'd think was normal. She did say 'Merlin' once, which was strange. She had a copy of _La Morte de Arthur_."

"Guess that explains the cross too," Katherine said as they examined the object.

Mary, however, had picked up the cross and was fingering the large melted weight on one end. "You know, I don't think this is a cross after all. I think this is a pommel."

"A what?" Diana asked.

"A sword," Mary said with certainty. "A broken sword that has been exposed to great heat."

"Kind of short for a sword," Katherine said. She blinked and swayed even while sitting from the whiskey.

"That makes sense though," Susan said. "The blade is broken, but it's still sharp. We're supposed to nick our palms to summon the Lord of Light so he can come take Grams to heaven."

"My mom is Catholic," Diana asked. "I've gone to Sunday school. Blood sacrifice doesn't sound very Christian."

Mary shrugged. "She might have been part of some sect or cult. Like the LSD* or Scientificologists. And Jesus gave his blood, didn't he?"

"Oh, that makes sense, I guess," Diana said. "What's LSD*?"

"I think it was a religious sect in Utah a couple of centuries ago. Went away after the Vulcans arrived for some reason."

Suddenly Katherine straightened her head. "I'll do it," she said, still flushed from the drink she wasn't handling quiet as well as her friends. "For Grams!"

"For the brandy she let us drink last night," Diana added.

Everyone turned to Mary. "Fine," the last girl said. "But if the cut hurts too bad, I'm going to kick your ass."

Susan smiled, her eyes a little moist. "Thank you," she whispered.

"We should wait until midnight," Mary said. "The witching hour."

"It almost is midnight," Susan pointed out.

Mary looked down at her watch and frowned. "Oh, right. Well, we better do it quick then."

"Okay, everyone sit around the circle," Susan said as she once more took charge. "Don't know if this is the right place, but it's the only circle like what's in the book. Each of you are supposed to pick one of these deities. And we might as well go in order. Katherine, since you volunteered first, you can go first. You'll get to be Gryffindor. Diana, you can be Hufflepuff. I'll be Slytherin, and Mary, you can be Ravenclaw. Read the invocation and memorize it. Then when you've said the invocation, you're supposed to cut your hand on the sword and let the blood drip into the circle. When we're done I'll get the dermgen patches in our first aid kit."

"Susan," Diana said suddenly, "I know we all love Grams, but what if she was lying? What if this is more than just a ritual to see her family off into heaven? That book is two hundred pages long and we can only read one of them. What if the rest of the book says the Lord of Light was the worst monster ever?"

"That'll be fun too," Susan said as she handed the broken sword to Katherine. She resumed her place, but then shook her head. "Grams was many things, Diana, but she was never cruel. She despised shows of cruelness. It was the only time I ever saw her get truly angry. I can't imagine she would do anything to harm us."

She blinked, and then looked at Mary. "You know, I actually think I should go last."

Mary stared. "Why?"

"Honestly, I have no idea," Susan confessed. "The order says Slytherin was supposed to go last. Since I'm Slytherin, I should be last."

"But why are you Slytherin in the first place? Does it even matter who gets what god?"

"Mary," Diana said, "you know how Susan gets. Even if you're right, she'll win in the end anyway. Just switch and let's get on with it. I'm tired."

With a sigh, Mary got up and she and Susan changed places. Susan smiled at them all and then placed the book open by her knee. "Okay, it's about midnight. I guess we're ready."

"Fine," Katherine said. Her words were still a little slurred from the drink, but not as much as before. She picked up the broken sword and stared at it for the longest time. "This is stupid," she muttered. Then, strongly, she said, "In the name of Lady Gryffindor, I would die for him!"

Katherine daintily ran her hand over the broken edge and winced at the cut. The blood dripped down the blade, where three drops fell into the dusty circle. She handed the blade over to Diana. "I want my dermgen patch now," she said to Susan.

Susan flicked the patch over and Katherine put it on her cut palm. She sighed in relief as the patch immediately sealed and healed the cut. Next to her, Diana handled the sword gingerly. "In the name of Lady Hufflepuff, I would die for him," she said, though not quite as firmly. She too ran a hand along the blade and made a half-whimper at the cut. "That does not feel good," she muttered.

"Baby," Katherine teased.

Susan merely flicked another patch at the younger girl.

Mary accepted the sword and then glared at Susan. "Just for the record, if you back out after all of us have done this, we are so kicking your behind."

"I won't, I promise," Susan said.

"Fine. In the name of Lady Ravenclaw, I would die for him." She ran her hand along the blade and let her blood drop into the circle with the rest. As she was handing the blade to Susan, Diana screamed.

All four of them spun around and stared at what had terrified the girl. Immediately they froze as a figure stepped toward them. It was a woman with a kind expression dressed in long, flowing robes. She was beautiful, if not for the fact that she was glowing a bright silver that lit the air around her, and was absolutely transparent.

"Susan, is this one of your tricks?" Katherine whispered.

Susan shook her head mutely, too terrified to speak. The ghost drifted toward them, still with that gentle, kind expression. Across from her, Diana squeaked in terror. None of them made any effort to move as the ghost passed between Susan and Mary and stopped in the center of the circle.

Diana's squeak turned to a moan of terror as more shades appeared. Not one or two, but hundreds of glowing silver figures seemed to emerge from the air around them. More. _Thousands_. The air was filled with them, forming a dome around them with tens of thousands of ghostly silver eyes staring at them.

The first figure made a gesture and Susan turned her attention back to the circle. The matronly ghost was moving closer to Susan, until a silver hand reached up and cupped her cheek. The touch was icy cold. "_Complete the ceremony, my dear Susan_," the ghost said. Its voice was a whispered breeze across distant treetops. It was the waves of the lake lapping violently down at the shore. It was a breath of cold air that somehow formed words with Grams' voice. "_Let my beloved Grandpapa live again_."

"Susan," Diana gasped, shivering. "Please don't."

"_Do not fear_," the ghost whispered again, smiling. "_Let your love call him. For he is a being of purist love_."

Despite the cold touch; despite the cold ghostly eyes staring at her, Susan smiled. "Grams," Susan breathed. The ghost nodded. "This is magic, isn't it?" she whispered. "Real magic. Just like you used to talk about when I was a kid."

The ghost smiled back at her and nodded again, then drifted to the center of the circle. Susan raised the sword she grabbed from Mary. "In the name of Lady Slytherin, I would die for him." She slashed her own hand, hardly even wincing at the pain.

The ghost watched the blood falling on the stone, then held up both hands. In a suddenly loud, human-sounding voice, she cried, "And we, the last children of magic, give our souls for him, so all that we were and all that we could be shall not pass forever into the night!"

The circular depression suddenly lit up just as the ghostly woman sank into it. Other ghosts joined her, singularly at first, then by twos and threes until it became a solid silvery stream reaching into the sky and pouring into the circle with a strange building roar, like a distant hover tram.

The four terrified girls clambered back from the glowing circle as the last ghost disappeared. With the last flicker of silver, the circle started to pulse. A shadow appeared in the center of it, growing larger and larger until a shape breached the inexplicably viscous surface. As soon as the shape was clear, the pulsing eased and the circular depression lost all color until, in the shadows caused by the heater lamp, it became stone again.

The girls climbed to their feet and inched forward cautiously. The Lord of Light appeared to be a very naked teenage boy.

"Huh," Diana muttered.

* * *

sp

sp

*Unfortunately, a lot of people just didn't get this joke, so I'm making this post to let you know that the spelling of LSD v LDS was intentional, and if you want to know why, go watch Star Trek IV.


	3. The Lord of No Clothes

Author's Responses at the End:

* * *

**Chapter Three: The Lord of No Clothes**

As they stared at the naked boy curled into a fetal position in the middle of the circle, Mary strode over to Susan and kicked her squarely in her behind. "What was that for?" Susan demanded.

"What do you think you were doing?" Mary shouted. "When a ghost tells you to do something, don't do it! When a billion ghosts are staring at you, you get your ass up and run away! You don't complete a stupid ritual!"

"That was stupid," Diana agreed. The redhead's hands were still shaking. "What were you thinking? The moment the ghost appeared we should have gotten out of here."

"Little late for that now," Katherine said. "What do we do with mister Lord of No Clothes here?"

"Anyone check to see if he's even alive?" Mary asked.

When no one made any move to do that, Katherine muttered "Fine!" She stepped onto the circular stone and knelt down to check his pulse. It was strong. Moreover, the boy was warm. Very warm. The physical sensation of the touch ran through her finger like a shock. "I think he may be running a…aaahhhh!"

The boy reached out and grabbed her wrist. He let go immediately and started shaking. The shaking turned into violent convulsions. He reared his head back, opened two glowing green eyes, and screamed.

The four girls stumbled backward, screaming themselves at the sight. It soon became clear to them however that the boy's cries were not meant to frighten. He continued writhing and screaming in obvious agony. "What's wrong with him?" Diana demanded.

"How the hell should I know?" Susan snapped.

"He's in shock of some kind," Katherine said. She rushed back into the circle and grabbed one of the boy's arms. "We've got to restrain him before he hurts himself."

"What about hurting us?" Diana said. "Look at his eyes!"

"The glow's already fading," Katherine said. "It might just be an after effect of whatever happened. Help me!"

Susan rushed forward and grabbed his other arm. The contact sent a rush of electricity through her. Moments later, Mary came to help with his thrashing, and finally Diana. The screaming eased, though the convulsions did not. All four girls tried their very best not to look too long at his exposed body.

"Why does he feel so warm?" Mary asked.

"Why does he feel so good?" Diane said. "Did you feel the shock when you touched him?"

The other girls nodded. Finally, the convulsions seemed to be easing. When he could breathe the boy started sobbing. They released his arms and legs and those hands immediately reached out and wrapped themselves around Katherine's waist even as he curled into a fetal position, crying face-first into her hip.

"Er, this is awkward," Katherine whispered to the other girls.

"Probably not the first time, though," Mary said.

"We are not bringing Edward into this," Katherine said.

Finally the sobs eased off. The boy's face was still buried in Katherine's hip with his arms around her waist.

"Are you going to let go?" Katherine finally asked the boy.

He jumped. His body literally lifted off the circle of rock for a moment in surprise before he let go as if her body were burning. Still naked, his privates cast in the shadows caused by their heater, the boy crab-walked backward until he hit the lip of the depression and fell.

Susan winced. The boy cried out in surprise, then spun onto his knee and sprinted to the shattered stairwell, where he curled up and wrapped his arms around his knees.

"I bet Edward's not looking so bad now, is he?" Mary whispered.

Katherine, though, was staring at the boy as if in shock. She lowered her hand to her hip where the boy's face had rested and rubbed it slowly. "He's terrified."

"Well, yeah, we can see that," Mary said.

Katherine shook his head. "No," she said, urgency in her voice. "I can _feel_ it. He's terrified. My hands are shaking from it."

And they were—the other girls could see it.

Katherine stood up and left the others and the light of the camp and stepped closer to the boy. "Hello," she said gently. She knelt down before him. "My name is Katherine Dunningham. Are you okay?"

In a voice made hoarse with cries and mucus, the boy whispered, "Where am I?"

"You're in an old ruined castle named Hogwarts," Katherine said.

"How'd I get here?"

"We don't know."

The boy looked over Katherine's shoulders at the three other girls who were slowly coming closer. He looked back at Katherine. Though his eyes were lost in the shadows cast by Katherine's body, she could still see a trail of moisture running down his cheeks. "You feel familiar," he said softly. "Do you know who I am?"

By then Susan, Mary and Diana had arrived. The boy looked at them all, one after the other, and appeared on the verge of tears again. "Why does everything hurt?" he whispered. He shivered violently, and a small sigh of pain escaped.

"We have a heater," Susan said. "And food."

The boy looked at her, and Susan fought an urge to step back. A flash of light had struck his face as he turned, catching the brilliant green of his eyes. "Food?" he asked.

"Come on," Susan said, holding out a hand.

Hesitantly, almost like a shy child, he took her offered hand. Almost immediately, though, both drew back in shock. "What was that?" Susan asked.

The boy stared at his hand in confusion, while Katherine for some reason looked at hers as well. "Almost like an electric shock," Katherine said. "Only it felt…"

"Really good," Susan finished.

"What are you two talking about?" Mary demanded.

"When I touched him," Susan explained. "It was like a shock, only it felt…like it would have been for Katherine if Edward hadn't been such a wimp."

Mary's eyes widened and went back to the flushed, confused face of the boy.

"Am I Edward?" he asked.

"I don't think so," Mary said.

The boy looked at her next, then finally to Diana. "You feel familiar. Why can't I remember you?"

"We would remember if we'd ever met you," Diana assured him. She stood and offered her own hand. "Come on, sweetie. Let's get you some food and something to wear."

He took the proffered hand. Susan and Katherine watched expectantly as a deep blush stained Diana's pale cheeks and ran down her neck to disappear under her shirt line. She did not let go, however. The boy stood, exposing his body to the four teenage girls without hesitation. He projected an air of child-like innocence, as if he did not know he should be covered.

Given where her face was, Katherine got an eye-full and stood quickly from her kneeling position, blushing as furiously as Diana. "Well, let's see if we can find something for our friend to wear, shall we?" Katherine said a little faster than normal.

"Food?" the boy asked. "I'm very hungry."

"Come on, then," Diana said.

Susan fought an urge to smile as Diana held the hand of a very handsome, very naked teen-age boy and led him back to the stone circle and the heater they had there. He stood, looking around in wonder and confusion, while Diana and the others scrounged for something to cover him. Finally, Katherine removed an oversized pair of sweatpants. Though they were too short, the boy was very lean and was able to put them on with only a little stretching around the waist.

Susan draped a blanket around his shoulders as Diana warmed up a food pack. He stared down into the packet a moment, and then proceeded to eat with abandon. Diana sat next to him, simply watching him. When he was finished and looking at the pack with sorrow, the youngest of the four girls giggled. "Are you still hungry?"

"Yes, please."

She pulled out another meal pack and watched again as he quickly devoured it.

"So now what?" Mary asked from across their campsite. "It's pretty obvious we've been set up."

"Did you see her?" Susan asked, her voice quiet and awe-struck. "It was Grams. She was here. She spoke to us."

"She was a ghost," Katherine said.

The boy looked up, wide-eyed. "A ghost?"

All three girls stared at him. "Do you know about ghosts?"

The boy shook his head. "I don't remember," he admitted. He sounded frustrated. "Why don't I remember anything?"

"Do you remember what your tattoos were for?" Diana asked.

The boy looked at her in confusion, until she reached out and touched his hand. He followed her movement and found himself staring at a very clear tattoo. He looked at his other hand, and then his feet. "Why do I have tattoos?"

None of the girls could answer. It was Katherine who said, "We can't stay out here with him."

"Why?" Diana asked.

The other girls stared at her, but despite her raging blush Diana lifted her chin. "It's late, why bother getting started? Remember we can't get through on our coms, and they can't beam to us. So let's just sleep tonight and head back tomorrow. We have food. We have a tent. Our guest is covered enough for modesty. Why not just start back tomorrow?" She added in a smaller voice, "We can take care of him."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Mary said. "He obviously has amnesia and probably needs medical attention. Waiting may make it worse. We need to get him to a doctor."

The meal packet fell with a dull thud. "You aren't going to leave me, are you?" the boy asked with such terror they could see him trembling.

Diana gripped his hand in both of hers. "No, sweetie, it's okay. We won't leave you." She turned and glared at Mary. "Will we?"

Susan, this entire time, had been watching the boy while her hand still tingled from their brief contact. She stood and deliberately crossed the stone until she sat on his other side. He watched her, his face almost like a puppy hoping for a new home. She took his other hand. "We're a little confused about what happened," she told him. She spoke slowly, as if to a child. "We're just teenagers. None of us are qualified to take care of you if you need help. We need to get some adults here."

He shook his head and clasped their hands. "I just need you," he said. "I can feel it. Just you."

"This is pathetic," Mary muttered. She turned and reached into her packet and removed the emergency beacon Katherine's mother had given them. "We are not going to spend the night in the middle of nowhere with a healthy, under clad teen-age boy who materialized out of a piece of rock. My parents would kill me."

"Mary!" Diana hissed, but it was too late. Mary pushed the beacon activation.

Nothing happened.

Mary pressed it again and again, growing more frustrated. Finally she stood and pointed it at the sky, as if that would help. "It's the interference," Katherine surmised. She reached into her things and tried her own, with the same result. "I bet once we get out of the valley they'll work again."

"Then we should go," Mary said.

Susan, however, shook her head. "Mary, do you really want to go walking through the Moors of Scotland alone at night?"

Mary wilted, and finally sat. "No, I guess not."

"I'm sorry," the boy said.

All four girls stared at him, and he bowed his head. "I didn't mean to upset anyone."

Susan realized she was still holding his hand and gave it a squeeze. "Not your fault," she said. "If anyone, it's mine. We saw a ghost of my Grams, and that should have stopped the ritual."

He stared at her in confusion.

"You weren't here when we arrived," Susan explained. "We did a ritual, and you came out of this rock. We don't know how." Her eyes widened, and she left him to go rooting through her pack. She tried not to think about how cold her hand seemed now that he wasn't holding it.

She returned a moment later with the stick. She handed it to him and he took it gingerly. His eyes widened as he lifted it. "It feels good," he whispered. "What is it?"

"Maybe it's your magic wand," Mary sneered, still frustrated about the beacon. "Give it a wave and make a rabbit appear."

With no reason not to take her at her word, the boy flicked the stick, and in the middle of the stone a rabbit appeared. It was white with red eyes. It took a hop, proving to all that it was alive.

"Aaaggghhh!" Mary screeched. "I was joking!"

"Sorry," the boy said, flushing. He flicked the stick and the rabbit disappeared with a pop.

"How did you do that?" Katherine demanded.

The boy stared at the stick for a long time, and then shrugged. "I can't remember. It feels like I should know, but I just can't remember." He handed the stick back to Susan. She noticed as she took it from him that it felt oddly warm.

After she put the stick back, she noticed he and Diana were still holding hands and it looked as natural as if the two of them had been friends for the whole of their lives. "Well, since it doesn't appear we have a choice," Susan said, "I say we set up the tent and make camp. We'll head out first thing tomorrow."

"We don't have a bedroll for our guest," Mary said.

"He can have mine," Diana said. She blushed again when she realized how that sounded.

The boy, though, shook his head. "It's okay," he said. "I can sleep here."

"Here?" Susan asked.

The boy patted the stone. "It feels comfortable," he said. "Like…I wish I could remember." He looked at them. "You've been very nice. Thank you. You should go to sleep."

"He's right," Katherine said, yawning. "Enough excitement. Let's go to sleep."

They set up the tent, which was just large enough for the four of them. Diana actually did try to hand him her bedroll. "Since I'm sleeping in the tent," she said. "Least this way you'll be more comfortable."

"But I don't need it," he assured her. While the other girls were unrolling their self-inflating rolls, Susan looked up and watched as he pulled a strand of red hair away from Diana's face. It seemed like such a natural gesture. "I'll be fine," he told her. "You should sleep. You're tired."

He touched her cheek, and Diana almost slumped right there as she gave a lion-sized yawn. "Wow, you're right. Okay then, good night." She turned to crawl into her tent, then changed her mind and turned back to the boy. To Susan's shock, Diana leaned up on her toes and kissed the cheek of the boy whom they had known for an hour and who had appeared from the middle of a ghost-infused blood ritual. Diana, who had never kissed a boy in any fashion ever.

The boy himself placed a hand on his cheek, wide-eyed, as he watched Diana crawl back into the tent. Finally all the girls were in. Susan noticed the others also watching as the boy simply lay down with the thermal blanket they had given him and stared up at the stars.

They sealed the tent. "Diana, what are you doing?" Mary whispered.

"He's so scared and alone," Diana said. "I just wanted to let him know he's not so alone. That's all."

"Liar," Katherine said. "You really wanted to kiss him on the lips, but you chickened out."

"Did not," Diana said, indignantly.

"Did so," Susan said, suddenly understanding. "Because I wanted to kiss him too."

She looked over at her four best friends. "I mean, I really want to kiss him. Like I want to crawl out of this tent and…"

"Yeah, me too," Katherine admitted.

"You girls are insane," Mary said.

"That's only because you haven't really touched him yet," Diana said. "Only when he was having those convulsions."

"It felt good," Susan whispered. "Touching him felt good."

"Let's go to sleep, girls," Mary muttered. "We'll talk about it in the morning."

Two hours later, Susan woke up from the single most erotic dream she had ever had, until the end when for some reason she felt a surge of terror so strong she couldn't even find a voice to moan. That's when her eyes popped open. She sat up, and instantly became aware of the other girls awake.

Then they all heard what woke them. It was a low moan, like someone so terrified or so anguished they could not even form a human sound. Quietly, they undid the seal of the tent and looked out to see the boy twisting and turning on the stone, moaning out a single word. "Noooo."

None of them had ever heard such anguish in a sound before.

Diana surged forward, only to have Mary stop her. "What are you doing?"

"We've got to help him," Diana insisted.

"Just let him sleep and go back to bed," Mary said.

Diana shook her head and jerked her arm loose before scrambling out of the tent. She rushed to the twisting figure and knelt down beside him. "Sweetie, it's okay," she crooned as she placed both hands on his bare chest.

Susan blinked, confused by the strange golden aura that seemed to surround them briefly. Whatever it was, though, seemed to hit Diana like a hammer. She staggered back with ragged breaths while the boy shot upright, eyes wide. "Susan!" he cried.

Susan blinked and felt Mary and Katherine staring at her.

If Diana was bothered being called by her friend's name, she didn't show it. "No, I'm Diana."

"Diana?" The boy stared at her face, lit only by the brilliant stars and the distant light reflected off Spacedock overhead. "Why is it when you're around me, I think the name Susan Bones?"

Susan blinked again. "Susan Bones?" she whispered. "Who the hell is that?"

Diana, though, simply scooted closer. "I don't know. I don't even know what to call you."

"I don't…" He growled and hit his head with the heels of his hands. "Damn, I wish I could remember."

"Maybe we should call you William for now," she said. "He is a famous starship captain. Actually, I guess he's an admiral now."

"William," the boy said, trying the name out. "Can it be shortened?"

"Will, or Bill," she said.

"Bill sounds good," he said.

"Bill it is, then," Diana said with a happy smile. "It beats calling you Boy."

"I feel like a voyeur," Mary hissed.

"That's because we are voyeurs," Katherine hissed back. "Now shush!"

If Bill heard them, he gave no sign of it. "Diana, this place where you are going to take me tomorrow—will they hurt me?"

Diana moved back and knelt beside him again, and once more took his hand in hers. "No, sweetie. They'll try to help you remember."

"Will you be there?"

"I can ask to be," she said.

"Will the others be there too?" He looked to the tent, and there was no longer any point in pretending they weren't watching.

"I don't know, Sweetie," Diana said. "Nothing like this has ever happened to us. We aren't sure what's supposed to happen."

Bill looked down at his hand in hers. "Thank you," he said softly. "For helping me. For being nice to me."

"It's what good people do," Diana said.

Bill nodded. "I can see that. You…you have a pure soul."

Susan sat up stiffly and walked out of the tent. Diana watched her come with a weary smile. "Bill, what do you mean by a pure soul?"

"I…I…." He stopped and took a deep breath. He looked from Diana to Susan, then over Susan's shoulder where Katherine now stood by the tent. Mary stayed within but still watched. "I don't know good words. When I look at you, you feel familiar to me for some reason. Like I should know you. And when I touch you…it feels good. It feels like you're pure."

"You mean like a virgin?"

Bill shook his head. "No, I don't think so. I mean, you are, but that's not what I mean."

"How do you know we're virgins?" Katherine demanded from the tent. She sounded indignant.

"I don't know, I just do." Bill looked to Diana. "I guess by pure I mean you've never been tainted by darkness. You've never done or even wanted to do anything really bad."

"Can we go back to sleep now?" Mary moaned from the tent.

"Funniest thing," Diana said. She had not let go of Bill's hand. "I'm not tired. In fact I feel more awake now than I did since we started the trip. And no hangover."

"Me neither," Susan said. In a surprised clip, Katherine confirmed she didn't have any lingering effects from the alcohol either.

"Speak for yourselves," Mary moaned.

Suddenly the quiet of the night was shattered as a shuttle soared over head. With a cry of alarm Bill jumped to his feet and literally threw himself between Diana and the shuttle. "What is that?"

Diana stood and placed a hand on his bare shoulder. "It's okay, Bill. It's a shuttle. Maybe our beacon got through."

The shuttle came to a gentle stop on a portion of the foundation stripped clear of masonry and rock. The light from the interior spilled across their campsite as two silhouettes emerged. Bill continued to position himself between the girls and the newcomers, as if somehow he could protect them.

"Good evening," one of the silhouettes said. "My name is Petty Officer Shahkria. My colleague is Recruit Collins. Starfleet sensors detected a large flash of light at approximately midnight local time from these coordinates. Do any of you know anything about that?"

The shuttle's exterior lights turned on, flooding the area with bright light. Bill shielded his eyes for a moment and then blinked when his eyes adjusted.

The man before him wore black pants, a red, long-sleeved shirt with a gold symbol on his chest. He was also blue, and had two antenna on his white-haired head.

"Aaahhh!" Bill cried. He waved a hand in front of him, and a flash of red light shot out from the air and sent the Andorian careening unconscious against the shuttle.

"Bill, wait!" Diana called.

However, Recruit Collins was faster. He rolled forward with a device in his hand that poured out a beam of orange light. Bill moved with stunning speed and spun away from the beam. At the same time he grabbed Diana and threw her into Katherine. "Go!" he shouted. "I'll hold them off!"

"They're Starfleet, you idiot!" Mary shouted back. "They're the good guys!"

"What?" Bill said, confused. The delay was all the time Collins needed.

The orange light struck him in the back. Bill had a confused look on his face and then crumpled to the ground.

* * *

sp

sp

**Author's Responses:**

Sir Trib the Bold; immortal7; Debbster21; Vyrexyuviel; Deviate Fish; smedman; Bratling; Darksnider05; prudiisten; impatientuser; dajohu; Roosterman71; Manus Dei; Bobboky; SomeGuyGawkes; JEKrug01; Mackon; Wonderbee31; Gogolu; dennisud; Sayle and Cogster--thank you all very much for your reviews and comments. So far this has received more reviews than I though it would, and I'm thrilled.

I've had several folks comment on how if feels like the first few chapters have almost a prologue-like feeling, and it's a legitimate criticism. The original version of this story started of much more quickly with Harry appearing faster, but then it sort of fizzled. This story story isn't a Star Trek crossover with Harry Potter. It's a HP crossover into Star Trek. This is the Star Trek universe with all that entails. But there is also a mystery here--who is Grams? why were the girls tricked? Where is the magical world? This is where the story is going. So, it is slow, because of the set up. It's not action intensive, though there will be some action of course. But mainly its a story detailing Harry's rediscovery of himself and his world.

Re: the ghosts? Yes, they actually sacrificed their very souls to help power the rebirthing spell, and they did so happily.

Bratling--I'm glad someone did. I was so hoping to be able work that most famous ST:IV reference in.

Darksnider--If you look at my notes on page one, you'll see this story is set well after Voyager has returned home. As established in ST: Nemesis, Katherine Janeway is a Star Fleet admiral. She's in the story, but in no way central to it.

Bobboky--while Q appeared in one draft, he added nothing to the story and so was dropped from the final. And you'll find the sex aspect is radically reduced in this fic. It's just a completely different type of story.

SomeGuyFawkes--"Anywho, I'll be really impressed if the "Lord of Light", who they all swore to die for, was Ron Weasley. I dare ya. ;-)". It would be hilarious, but I'm not that brave.

Also, just a reminder from the notes that this story is not compliant with any of the books. It only takes into account movies and TV series as cannon. The roles and positions of all the characters are my own personal guesses or desires based on the last shows.

For anyone who is interested, this story is 24 chapters long with just over 87,000 words.

Thank you all again for reading. I truly appreciate it and hope you continue to enjoy.


	4. What Is My Name?

Author's Responses at the end:

* * *

**Chapter Four: What is my Name?**

"Thank you for speaking to us, Miss Chamberlain," the Starfleet lieutenant said.

Susan looked briefly at her parents, who sat along the side of the wall. Her mother gave her an encouraging nod while her father forced a sickly-looking smile.

"Of course," Susan finally said.

The lieutenant appeared to be in her twenties and wore her blonde hair in a bob. The yellow hair looked slightly odd with her otherwise Asian features. Still, she had a soothing contralto voice and moved with calm, deliberate competence as she removed her PADD to record the interview.

"My name is Lieutenant Helen Yang. I am with Starfleet Security. And I wish to assure you that neither you nor your friends are in any trouble. As soon as this interview is done you will be free to go regardless of your answers. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Good. First, please state your name, age and place of residence."

"Susan Chamberlain, eighteen, San Francisco."

"Good. Susan, where were you on July 31st of this year?"

"I was in Scotland."

"Where in Scotland?"

"Hogwarts Valley."

"Can you describe what you were doing there?"

Susan described their trip and Grams last will and testament where Grams asked her, Mary Caraough, Diana Boxing and Katherine Dunningham to scatter her ashes by the lake in Hogs Valley, and then to drink a toast of Irish whiskey to her at Midnight.

"And did Margaret Dulheim ask you to do anything else?"

"No."

Lieutenant Yang looked at her for a very long time without blinking. Susan kept her eyes just out of focus with the lieutenant. "Can you tell me when and how you found the young man we are calling Bill?"

"There was a flash of bright light," Susan said. "We thought it was a flare. And then he was simply there."

"Can you describe his appearance?"

"Naked," Susan said quickly. She blushed and looked down. "Scared. Really scared. He tried to run from us at first."

"Did he have any specific markings or identifying features?"

"He had tattoos on his hands and feet. Otherwise that was it. No scars that we could see."

Yang smiled. "And I suppose you looked closely?"

"Have you seen him?" Susan muttered. Her blush had risen to her eyes. "Er, I mean, yeah, I guess we looked. Katherine found a pair of sweats for him to wear and Diana gave him some of our travel packs to eat."

"Did he speak?"

"Yeah, he did. It sounded strange, though. Like those ancient pre-war movies they sometimes show on the infonet."

"Now, Susan, I do not want you to be embarrassed," Lieutenant Yang said. "There is no judgment here. We're simply trying to understand everything that happened. Were you, or any of your friends, sexually intimate with this young man?"

"What? No!" Susan sputtered. "We…I mean, Diana and I held his hands because he was acting really scared, but…no!"

"I see," Lieutenant Yang said. "Did you kiss him or engage in any intimate contact of any kind?"

"Again, no. Why are you asking that?"

Yang made a note in her PADD instead of answering. Instead, she said, "Susan, are you sexually active?"

Susan turned and stared at her parents, who both looked slightly nauseous. "Mom, Dad, are you going to let them ask this?"

"It's for a good reason, Susan," Peter Chamberlain said. "I promise, sweetie, it'll be okay. But please answer for now. Remember, we're not judging you."

Susan turned and glared at the lieutenant. "As a matter of fact, no, I'm not sexually active."

Yank smiled and made another note. "Thank you, Susan. Like I said, I'm not trying to embarrass you. This conversation will be held in the strictest of confidences. Now, can you tell me what happened when the shuttle arrived?"

Susan took a deep breath to steady herself. "Bill was terrified. He jumped up and put himself in front of us, like he was trying to protect us or something. It was silly. I've seen Katherine fight and she could probably take on most cadets. Anyway, the Andorian officer came out first. Bill couldn't see him at first until the shuttle turned on its brights. Bill took one look at the man and screamed. He waved his hand, the Andorian fell down, and Bill grabbed Diana and told us all to run."

"And then what?"

"Katherine told him not to be an idiot, and the other Feddie shot him."

Yang made some more notes. "Now, Susan, one last question, and I hope you are honest with me. We are having a difficult time identifying Bill or locating his family. Do you know where he is from?"

"I'm sorry," Susan said with absolute honesty, "I really don't. Is he okay? Can I see him? He must be scared right now, and probably hungry."

"Perhaps later," Yang said. "Once we locate his family, we will send him home. And chances are, that will not be here." The lieutenant stood abruptly. "Well, thank you all for your time. I know this has been difficult for you, and I appreciate your assistance. Susan, it was a pleasure meeting you."

Susan took the offered hand numbly, and then walked out with her parents.

The Starfleet Command campus took up much of the land surrounding Horseshoe Bay and looked out over the Golden Gate Bridge. The bridge looked perfect, with no sign of its destruction during the Dominion War when Susan was a baby.

"Uhhg, that was irritating!" Susan muttered. "Mom, why were you letting her ask personal questions like that?"

"I'm sorry, dear," Jennifer Chamberlain said. She reached across and toyed with some of Susan's hair. "There were some indications during your physical this morning that made them concerned. What if the boy wasn't human or had come in illegally without getting his immuno boosters? You could have caught an illness."

"I didn't do anything," Susan said. "What, did you think we set up some type of orgy out there? We tossed Gram's ashes, got slightly drunk on the whiskey, and then there he was. The Feddie shuttle arrived a couple hours later, and mostly what we did before then was sleep."

"Okay, dear. Let's go home."

* * *

"She's lying," Yang said.

Commander Tom Paris watched the playback and compared it to the other three interviews. "True, but they matched their stories up well enough and there's no sign of any actual crime being committed. And frankly even if there were a crime, it's way outside of Starfleet jurisdiction."

"What about Petty Officer Shahkria? Doesn't that make it our jurisdiction?"

"He recovered with no other effects than a mild headache. But yeah, that's why we're holding the boy. Any word on him?"

"He's at Medical. Our background check turned up nothing on DNA scan. The scan itself was a little strange, but that's for medical to figure out. From what we can tell, he has no family, ID, or name. He doesn't exist."

Commander Paris shrugged and logged the case as complete. "Well, we've done our part. It's for the white jackets to figure out now."

* * *

He woke to a gentle voice telling him it was time to get up. He blinked against a bright light and tried to sit up. A feminine hand pressed against his back to help him.

"Better?"

He nodded. The speaker moved out from behind him. She was a pretty woman with hazel eyes and long chestnut brown hair with a few natural highlights held by a tie at the back of her neck. Her most startling feature, though, were four small horns that started at the bridge of her nose and ran up between her eyes to just about the line of her brows.

"Are you…an alien?"

The woman smiled, and he felt somehow comforted. He could feel that she meant him no harm. That she could be his friend.

"My father wasn't human, if that is your question," she said. "My mother was. Words like 'alien' don't mean very much any more. Can you tell me your name?"

"They called me Bill," he said. "Diana. Is she here? Did that laser gun get her too?"

The woman shook her head gently. "No, Diana was fine. That was called a phaser, and the officer only used it because he thought you were trying to hurt him. But you weren't, were you?"

"I thought he was a demon or something," Bill admitted. "But he was another alien, right?"

"His species is called Andorian. His name is Petty Officer Shahkria. He is married with a young daughter. They came by while you were sleeping to make sure you were okay."

Bill looked down at his knees. They were covered by gray slacks that felt very smooth and comfortable. "That was nice of him. I'm glad he's okay."

"Well, Bill, are you hungry?"

Bill's eyes widened. "Yeah."

"What would you like?"

"Bangers and mash would be smashing if you have it."

The pretty woman looked a little confused. "I'm sorry, I'm not familiar with that dish. Can you describe it?"

"Sausages and mash," Bill said. "Best with Cumberland sausages, and maybe a little onion gravy. I never got gravy." He blushed and ducked his head. "Never got the bangers either, really. But I'd get some of the mash since Dudley just wanted the sausages."

The woman smiled again. "Computer, inquiry, bangers and mash?"

"Bangers and Mash is a dialectic term describing any type of sausage served with mashed potatoes, most commonly served with an onion-based gravy. Commonly known as pub-grub. No longer vernacular usage."

Bill stood and looked around the spacious room for the voice. "Who's that?"

"That's the computer," the woman said. "It has sensors in the walls that can hear and understand questions, and answer them out loud."

"Wow, bet that cost a few pence," Bill said.

"Computer, one order of bangers of mash, please."

Bill watched as an alcove lit up, then a moment later he could smell a familiar scent. His mouth was watering as the woman walked over, collected the plate, and walked back to a small table by a window. He realized on some level he should have looked around, but he only had eyes on the food.

"Thanks," he said as he took the proffered silverware and demolished them. "Bangers taste a bit wonky, but still good. Got any butterbeer?"

"Computer?"

"No reference found."

The woman shrugged. "What else would you like?"

The boy looked down at the now empty place. "Er, don't suppose…you got any soda?"

"Soda?"

"You know, like Coke?"

"A popular carbonated beverage," the computer explained. "The last bottle of Coke was produced in 2198."

"May we have a glass? Bill, do you like ice?"

"No, thanks."

"Twelve ounces, chilled."

The alcove in the corner lit up, and the woman brought the glass. "Thanks," Bill said. He sipped it, eyes closed. "Never got Coke either," he whispered. "Hey, should I know your name? You feel familiar."

"My name is Naomi Wildman," the woman said.

"Naomi," the boy said. "That's a pretty name. Should I know you? I feel like I've met you before."

"I don't think so, but thank you. Bill, do you know your last name?"

"Er…" He put the cup down and stared into the distance a moment before blinking. "No, not really."

"You mentioned someone named Dudley?"

"Aye. My whale of a cousin. Used to beat me up all the time."

"What was his last name?"

"I don't remember."

Bill's eyes wandered from those of Naomi to the window. His jaw dropped. "Bill?" Naomi asked.

"That's…that's the Golden Gate Bridge!"

"Yes it is."

"That means we're in the States, right?"

"States?"

"You know, the United States of America?"

"Well, I suppose yes, we are in North America," Naomi said. "Where are you from, Bill?"

"I'm from…Surrey?"

"You don't sound sure."

"I…don't remember. Little…something, Surrey."

"Computer?"

"Searching. Surrey was a county of the United Kingdom bordering pre-war London. The only locations within Surrey that match the parameters were Little Bookham and Little Whinging."

"That's it!" Bill said. "Little Whinging. Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging." He grinned. "I remember that."

"That's excellent, Bill!" Naomi said.

"Can I see Diana now?" Bill asked. "Or Susan or Katherine? Mary? Are they okay?"

"They've actually gone home," Naomi said. "They are all from this area. I'm sure after we get things settled you could see them again."

Bill stood up abruptly. He started looking at the room, really looking at it. There were two couches and three chairs, all a sandy brown color and overstuffed. They looked very comfortable. One wall looked like glass, but was black. He found a strange looking bathroom, but eventually he came back to the windows.

"I've seen pictures," he said softly. "I recognize the bridge. But I don't recognize the rest." He turned and looked at Naomi. "Why can't I remember?"

"I don't know, Bill," Naomi said. "I am a doctor. And I would very much like to help you. But there are tests we would need to run, and none of us here would do anything like that without your permission."

"Would they hurt?"

"No. You wouldn't feel a thing."

Bill looked back out the window. After a moment Naomi placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It feels like I've lost something," Bill whispered. "Something really important. But I just can't remember."

"Maybe we can find out together."

"Will you stay with me?" He turned and stared with brilliant green eyes. "I…I don't like being alone that much."

"I'll be with you," Naomi promised.

* * *

"A fascinating case, Dr. Wildman," Dr. St'alar said.

"You're telling me," Naomi whispered. On the other side of the window Bill lay on a thin cushioned slab while a deep-tissue resonance scanner swept over him to make a perfect holographic map of his body, all the way down to his cells.

"Little Whinging, Surrey, does not exist," St'alar said.

Noami raised a brow. "Think he's lying, then?"

"No. Scans indicated a high probability that he is telling us the truth. Little Whinging does not exist because it was destroyed in your last world war, along with much of London." The Vulcan raised a brow. "I would have thought you knew that."

"The war was covered in a class I missed," Noami said. "Raised 70,000 light years from Earth, remember?"

St'alar raised a brow. "Indeed. I sometimes wonder how Admiral Janeway put up with you."

"I had a winning smile," Naomi said. "Also I went from one to six in the course of a year until the Doctor fixed my faulty genome, so there wasn't so much diaper changing. But back to now—Bill used some other very anachronistic terms. Bangers and mash? Butterbeer? That one the computer had no idea. But Coke? He didn't just ask for soda but asked for a brand that hasn't been in production in two centuries."

"Perhaps he was in stasis?"

The resonance technician stepped away from the control. "Sorry to interrupt, doctors."

"Done?" Naomi asked.

"No, Doctor," the tech said with a shake of his head. "I've had to call maintenance. The imager is malfunctioning. We can't get anything below two millimeters. I'm sorry."

St'alar asked, "Do we have another we could use?"

"There's another deep-rez scanner over at the academy, but it's usually pretty booked up." The tech turned to go back to his controls, but paused. "I know we weren't able to do it all, but you might be interested to know that the subject has no scars."

"I'm sorry?" Naomi asked.

"No scars," the man said. "In fact, he has no skin conditions at all. No freckles, no varicose veins, no sign of acne past or present. No indication of any trauma ever. Most beautiful skin I've ever seen. If he weren't a teen, I'd say I was looking at the skin of a newborn baby. And those tattoos—they're birthmarks."

Naomi stared. "That's not possible."

The tech shrugged. "Otherwise it's the most advanced form of genetic engineering I've ever seen outside the Eugenics Wars. The 'tattoos' weren't done in ink. They're natural skin pigmentation."

"Can we get a carbon date of his skin?" St'alar asked.

"I'm sorry?"

Naomi understood where her supervisor was going. "If the skin looks new, maybe it is."

The tech nodded. "We don't normally do sample scans here. But then again, this is Starfleet Medical."

"Indeed," St'alar said. "Thank you for your assistance."

"You're welcome, Doctors," the tech said.

Since the scan was done, Naomi stepped into the room. "Hello, Bill. Didn't hurt at all, did it?"

"It tickled a bit," Bill said. This made St'alar raise a brow, since patients were not supposed to feel anything. "So what's this thing do again?"

"Well, this time, it took a really good picture of your skin. The technician said you have very beautiful skin."

Bill blushed beat red. "Well, er, that's nice, I suppose. So, when's lunch?"

* * *

Chief of Psychiatry Captain Deanna Riker looked down at her PADD while the rest of her staff looked over the notes from the other reports. "And finally, Naomi, do you have anything on the John Doe found in Scotland? Keep in mind you're all that's keeping us from lunch."

Chuckles ran in a wave around the room. It was not unusual that Naomi was last. At twenty, she was the youngest psychiatrist on staff. So young, in fact, she was lucky to get the job at all. She tried not to think about the possibility that her friendship with Admiral Janeway had anything to do with it.

When Naomi didn't answer immediately, Deanna looked up. "Naomi?"

"I'm sorry, I'm still trying to understand it myself."

"Understand what?"

Naomi placed her PADD on the table and looked around the table. "I know I'm the youngest doctor on rotation, and some of you sometimes don't trust my results, so I want everyone to know that I've been consulting Dr. St'alar the entire time."

"What is it, Naomi?" Deanna asked.

"According to a carbon date of Bill's skin, he is exactly one week old."

Deanna blinked while the others at the staff conference whispered. "Can you explain?"

"We attempted to do a deep-rez scan on the patient to perhaps get a better understanding of his amnesia. Was it physiological, pathological, or psychological? The deep-rez imager could only penetrate a few millimeters. However, the operator noted that Bill's skin was perfect, showing no sign of daily wear. We got him into the other imager at the Academy with the same exact results. For whatever reason, we can't do a deep-tissue resonance scan on him. So we did an EM scan. At the same time we took a skin sample. Rather than just scan it, we did a date test on the tissue."

"I wish to confirm Dr. Wildman's report," St'alar added. "The results were conclusive. The skin had only been exposed to the atmosphere for approximately a week, which corresponds to the time when the four human females supposedly found him in Scotland."

"What about the EM scan?" Dr. Feingold said.

"Bill is generating a ten millicochran energy field around his body," Naomi said. "It appears to be organically produced. Since both deep-rez imagings failed, we haven't been able to determine why."

"That's very interesting," Deanna noted as her colleagues commented on it. It was not entirely unheard of for beings to generate Cochran fields, but it was rare. "A clone, perhaps?" Deanna said.

"The tissue shows no mitochondrial degradation consistent with cloning," St'alar said. "If it were not for the fact that he speaks pre-Standard English and has some limited memory, I would almost be willing to speculate that he was a new born with artificially enhanced growth."

"Except he does have some memories," Naomi said. "He remembers an abusive cousin named Dudley. He says he is from a place destroyed over four hundred years ago in the last world war. He likes to drink a carbonated beverage from the twentieth century. His assault on a Starfleet officer was because he had never seen a non-human before and was scared."

"What does he think of your horns?" Deanna said with a teasing smile.

Naomi blushed. "He likes them a great deal."

Deanna reviewed the report and then leaned back. Though in her fifties now, Naomi always thought Deanna Riker was a beautiful woman. And a determined one. Getting a medical degree was difficult. Getting the degree and the internship while serving as a commander on board a starship was almost unthinkable. It was little surprise that when the _Titan_ came home and Captain Riker was offered an admiral's position as chief of Terra Sector security, she was tapped as the department head for mental health services.

"Tell, me, Naomi, what you think of him? Personally?"

"I think he's charming," Naomi admitted. "Intelligent but shy and unsure of himself. Kind and unselfish. He was deeply concerned for the well-being of the girls who found him, and was very apologetic when he met with Petty Officer Shahkria. He actually ended up playing with Shahkria's daughter for nearly two hours. He is very good with children—he has a natural empathy. Perhaps not developed to your level, but he bonded with her very quickly and she adored him. She cried when her father told her it was time to go home."

"You seem taken with him," Deanna said.

There was just the hint of warning in her voice. Naomi understood. "Within the confines of my role, I suppose some transference and counter transference has occurred. But I've made clear that I am his doctor. I am a friend if he needs it, but my primary role is to heal him. He understands that."

"Good. So, next steps?"

"With Dr. St'alar's concurrence, I do not feel that Bill poses a danger to himself or to society at this time. While he is a mystery and I would like to continue to meet with him to plan out a treatment strategy and further study, we also have to take into account what is in his best interest. I believe at this stage our long term goal should be societal integration. We need to start looking at what he knows and what he will need to know to fit into our society."

"With continued surveillance," St'alar added. "While the subject appears on the surface to be harmless and we can find no evidence of harmful pathogens, the fact we are unable to perform a deep scan is cause of some concern. If he is an organic weapon, it would be difficult to defuse him without further information. So a tracking implant would appropriate until we have a better idea of who or what he is."

"I agree," Deanna said. "Very well. Let's contact Hope's Point and begin the reintegration process for him."

* * *

sp

**Author's Responses:**

I am absolutely thrilled about the number of reviews so far. I did not really think I'd have this many people reading. So I'd like to thank the following people for their reviews and comments:

White Merlin; Vyrexuviel; Bobbky; dajohu; Obsidius; gaul1; Pointer3109; JEKrug01; Debbster21; Skuert; Roosterman71; SomeGuyFawkes; jpdt19; Gogolu; Wonderbee31; bord to life; GinnyLover14; dexterZ; David Fishwick; jarad hillman; Sharnorasian Empire; Voldemort is Dead; Johnny Bravo J; OrionTheHunter; Cyrix98; Manus Dei; and CatWriter.

Questions and Answers:

Q: I wonder what Starfleet is going to make of a guy who doesn't need a phaser to stun / kill someone. or do a whole heck of a lot of other things.

A: To be honest, a good part of the story is dedicated to that.

Q: It doesn't really make sense that Harry would just start zapping a stranger who'd made no hostile moves.

A: To a teen-age boy seeing an alien for the first time, it was a fight or flight response, and we all know which Harry would choose.

Q: Are you going to pair harry up with 4 girls again or just 1 or none at all?

A: You'll see. Promise.

Q: If i had to guess, and i do, i would guess Grams is Luna. It just sounds like something she would do.

A: Good guess, but no.

Q: I can hardly wait for Harry to remember his name I like his name it suits him.

A: Ordinarily I would not address this since it's a plot point, but I just wanted to say that the recovery of his name and memory is the true climax of this story and will follow with memories of how things got to the way they are. This is a truly immersive cross and honestly I gave myself goosebumps when it got there. But it will be the latter half of the story that this happens. Just be aware.

Well, thank you all for reading and for your feedback. Once again I am genuinely thrilled with the reception this fic has had so far.


	5. Tabula Rasa

Author's Responses at the end:

* * *

**Chapter Five: Tabula Rasa**

Bill looked at his new home with wide eyes.

Hope's Point, as Naomi explained it, was a Federation-sponsored orphanage for children of parents lost in the line of active duty. It was as big as a school, but more beautiful than any school he'd ever imagined. The grounds were covered in rich, lustrous grass and copses of tall trees that shimmered in the late summer breeze. The building itself looked like an oversized Spanish villa with five floors and a variety of patios on each level rising up in steps along each level in a slope. But most startling was that the school rested on a promontory overlooking the ocean. The breeze that blew smelled salty and alive.

A hand rested on his shoulder and he had to squash down an insane urge to kiss it. Naomi walked up beside him. She was dressed as always in her slimming black and blue Starfleet Medical uniform. The wind played at her hair. Bill fought the surge of affection he felt for this woman who was at least three years older than him, and his doctor. It was a hard fight, though. He didn't dare tell her about the dreams he was having about her at night.

"I stayed here myself for a year," she told him. "Before Admiral Janeway fostered me. I know it's going to be an adjustment for you, Bill, but this truly is a good place. You can make friends here, and they will take care of you."

"Will…" He smashed down the nervous jitter in his voice. "Will I continue to work with you?"

"Yes, we'll continue to meet, and I'll continue to try to help you find your family. There is a high power deep-tissue resonance scanner on board a starship called the _Lauterbur_. It's scheduled to return to port for a refit in two months. We'll schedule a session then. With that scanner, we will be able to study your brain and see exactly what happened to block your memories."

He nodded, at once excited and terrified by the thought. "Er, Naomi?"

"Yes?"

Then, before he came to his senses, Bill wrapped the startled woman in a hug. "Thank you," he said from her shoulder. She was actually his exact height. He let go, blushing furiously, and turned to start walking toward the school.

He never saw the deep blush that ran from Naomi's cheeks all the way down below her shirt. She shook her head, took a deep breath, and quickly followed after him.

* * *

On his second day at Hope's Point, the day before his first day at school, Bill had an unexpected visitor.

"Blil!" Streena howled as she rushed into his spacious room. The tiny blue bundle of arms, legs and antenna jumped onto Bill's lap knees first, getting a moan out of her friend. "I like your new house!" she said.

A moment later Petty Officer Shahkria stepped into the room with a wry smile. "She's been asking for you," he explained. He noticed Bill's discomfort. "And she does that to me too."

"Hey, Icebug," Bill said with a forced smile to hide the pain she caused. "You've been good for your Da?"

"I'm always good!" Streena said. "You been good for your doc, Blil?"

"Yep," Bill said. He looked up at the first non-human he ever seen and grinned. "Thank you for coming. It was starting to get a bit lonely."

"This place doesn't see much business anymore, thank goodness," Shahkria said. "Right after the Dominion War it housed almost seven thousand kids, and those were the ones without any family that could take them in. This room would have held twenty kids back then."

Bill shuddered. "Hard to imagine."

"So, you're starting school tomorrow, right?"

"That's what they tell me." Bill did not sound enthused.

"School is fun!" Streena said.

"You bet it is," Bill lied with a big happy smile for the young girl.

"Dr. Wildman said you would need supplies. Hope Point has a scholarship account set up for its residents. It'll be fun—all the joy of shopping without having to actually pay for anything."

"That'd be great, thanks Shahkria."

The three of them—Streena held Bill's hand—left the facility with a wave at Nancy the director and made their way to the local tram lift. The lift pulled them up onto the waiting platform and a long, sleek white tube came swooping up silently a few minutes later.

It was a strange day for Bill, but a good one. Shahkria was much nicer than he had any right to be, and Streena was simply hilarious. She asked the most embarrassing questions at the loudest possible voice at the worst possible time and did so with such innocence as to render the whole issue moot. She had more fun picking out Bill's new student PADD than he did, and went absolutely insane when they went looking for clothes.

After their supply trip, they stopped on the wharf for lunch. Streena and her father ate raw salmon over a bed of flavored ice and a few pieces of iceberg lettuce in the Andorian style. Bill had a large bowl of lobster chowder.

"Are you going home soon?" Bill asked.

Streena pouted. Her father tickled her scalp and made her antenna swing together in a cross as she giggled. Bill had learned that the Andorian's only truly ticklish spot was between their antenna. It was a useless fact to know, except when dealing with a precocious young girl.

"I ship out in three days, and probably will finish my tour in deep space," Shahkria said. "Fortunately my ship will be swinging by Andoria, and so this little one will finally get to see her mother. It's been sixth months."

Streena's antenna perked up at the thought. "Mommy is sooooo pretty," she whispered.

"Of course she is," Bill said. "She'd have to be to have such a beautiful little girl."

"And you wonder why she likes jumping on you," Shahkria smiled. "Anyway, this one wanted to see you before we left, and Dr. Wildman thought it was a good idea."

Bill nodded. That was one of the many things he really liked about Naomi—she never lied. When he asked why she was so happy about Shahkria coming by that first time, she told him it would help desensitize him to non-humans. The friendship the two formed was simply a bonus.

"You've been a great friend," Bill said. "Both of you. I'm really going to miss you."

Streena's antenna drooped and her lip quivered. With a loud howl that drew every eye in the place, she flew out of her chair and into his lap. She kneed him, of course, even as she cried into his shoulder. "Gonna miss you, Blil!"

He had a tear in his own eye as he hugged her back. He didn't even mind how she slaughtered his name.

* * *

"Welcome to Cochran Hills High School," the counselor said as Bill settled into her office. "May I see your PADD?"

He handed it over and watched as she pointed it at her desk monitor to upload all his texts.

"We've been in communication with Dr. Wildman at Starfleet Medical and we understand that you are coming to us with an interesting background and some unique academic opportunities," she said as she handed it back. "We're pleased that you tested so well on your literacy and math skills. That means that we can place you in an age-appropriate classroom setting. It's our goal to normalize your relationship with the other students as much as possible and to help you find a place in society. As for those areas that represent the greatest challenges, your PADD has been loaded with additional tutorials and guidance. Exobiology is a difficult course for any student, so don't be concerned if it is a struggle."

"Yes, ma'am," he said as he stared down at his schedule.

"There are also a variety of extracurricular activities available. Do you have any interest in music?"

"I don't think so."

"Perhaps sports?"

"Maybe, I don't know."

"Well, you have plenty of time to find out. I hope you enjoy your time here, Mr. Hogs. If you need anything at all, please do not hesitate to contact me."

"Thank you, ma'am."

He wandered out of her office, through the maze of the administrative section of the school, and stopped in the crowded hallway. The noise of it was a little stunning, as were the colors. Students wore a broad array of colorful clothes. Some were very revealing, while others were quite conservative. Some wore all black, others white.

Nor were they all human. He saw several alien faces in the crowd. He looked down at his PADD and touched the line that listed his first class. An interactive map appeared with a dot to represent him. Using the device, he was able to navigate the halls and lifts until he made it to his first class.

Unfortunately, he was the last in.

"Good morning," a man with the most interesting spots on his neck and forehead said. "My name is Mr. Crais Tintre. You are Bill Hogs?"

Bill nodded.

"Great. Please take the available seat there." Bill sat, aware of the many eyes on him.

"Okay, class, welcome to remedial exobiology. I don't like that word because it implies there is something wrong with you for being here and not in a standard class, but that is simply not true. Exobiology is a difficult branch of study. In this class we will be covering the four most basic life forms in the Federation—carbon, silicate, crystalline and energy. We will examine races from each of these basic forms and examine both those traits each share, and the traits that set each apart."

Bill fought very hard not to shudder as he stared at the opening text on his PADD. Not only was the device showing him the text, it was also recording the teacher's lecture word for word and spelling it out perfectly.

The next few classes passed much the same way, discussing things that made Bill feel very lost and confused. Finally, though, he reached a literature class that initially gave him a little sense of comfort, until the literature they were to discuss turned out to be a two million word heroic poem on the Vulcan-Andorian War from before the foundation of the Federation, and that most of the other students had either read it, or seen dramatized versions of it.

Then came the last class of the day—mathematics. The testers who came to Hope's Point told him that basic mathematics such as addition, subtraction, multiplication, division, algebra and geometry were imparted to six year olds through neuron interfacing. They spent the next year in a preparatory program designed to make sure they properly understood the new knowledge in their heads, and began their formal schooling at age seven. However, they determined that Bill was simply too old for such techniques and would have to learn a lot on his own. Fortunately, he seemed to know his basic math well enough.

He then surprised both himself and the testers by doing very well in integral calculus, basic warp field theory and thermal dynamics. He could not even tell them how he could do the math, other than shrug and say, "It's the math of power."

He took a seat at the back of the class, knowing even with his test results he would be far behind, and got ready for another long hour.

"Bill?"

He sat up, eyes wide, and saw a familiar face staring at him. Brown eyes the color of mocha stared at him from the center of an oval face framed by long, curly brunette hair. "Susan?" he asked.

"You remember?" she said, smiling brilliantly.

"How could I forget?" he said. He frowned. "I'm happy to see you, but how come you go to school here? Isn't that a big coincidence?"

"They brought you to Starfleet Medical," Susan explained. Around them the other students were shuffling in. A few were looking at the two of them oddly, but said nothing. "Once here, since you had no other family, I assumed they decided to put you in the Starfleet facility. But I and the others live here."

"But even the same school?"

"Katherine's mom is Starfleet," Susan said. "Makes sense, if you think about it. Besides, there are only two high schools in the city. So, how are you doing?"

He grinned a bit tiredly. "M'head hurts. How can you know all this stuff?"

"I've been studying stuff like this for years," she said.

Another student, a boy with a clearly receding hairline and Asian eyes set in a round Irish face turned around in his seat. "Don't let her play modest. She's top of the class. Hi, Kirk O'Brien. Nice to meet you."

"Bill Hogs, nice to meet you," he said.

"Kirk's dad is a Professor of Engineering at Starfleet Academy," Susan said. "So he thinks he has to do better than everyone else."

"It's a matter of pride," Kirk confirmed. "So, where are you from, Bill? You sound a little bit like my dad."

"I suppose I'm from London originally," Bill said. It was the cover story he and Naomi had agreed to.

"What brought you here?"

"Had an accident," Bill explained. "I don't remember much."

"Wow, sorry to hear that," Kirk said with a sad smile. "Well, hard to go wrong studying with Susan there. Still going for the Daystrom interview, Susan?"

"I interviewed two days ago," Susan said.

Kirk whistled. "Hey, did you get to see their Borg?"

"Dr. Hansen doesn't interview prospective employees," Susan said. "But I did get to meet her. She's not Borg any more." To Bill she added, "I called her Seven of Nine at first, but she corrected me. Goes by Annika Hansen now."

Bill, who had no idea what they were talking about, listened in companionable silence. Sitting next to Susan, he felt for the very first time all day as if he were not alone.

That night after class, Bill had a terrible nightmare. Vague shapes were chasing after him. There were loud pops, flashes of green light, and the sound of screaming. He could not see faces or remember any specifics, other than the fact he woke up drenched in sweat and breathing hard.

His door opened and Director Nancy stood in the door, clad in her night robe. "Bill, are you okay?"

Still caught as he was in the horror of his dream, he could not answer immediately. Nancy turned on the lights of his room, and in so doing revealed the debris of what looked like a hurricane spread across the floor. She saw Bill bare-chested and slicked with sweat, panting in bed. She rushed across the floor with a little medical scanner.

"What happened?"

"Just a bad dream," Bill said. "I'm sorry to wake you."

"Sweetie, it's okay," Nancy said with a tone that would have seemed saccharine on anyone else. "What a mess. Promise you'll clean it up tomorrow?"

"I promise," he said with a weak smile. He chose not to mention that the room had been spotless when he went to sleep.

* * *

The next morning Susan stepped off the tram and virtually ran through the thick crowds of the school until she reached the open air patio just outside the cafeteria. The morning was cool and muggy with the promise of more heat to come.

She found her targets sitting in the table nearest the grass just a few hundred meters from one of the many towers that would cast shadows over the school. She sat down and grinned at her friends.

Katherine, Mary and Diana were eating their breakfasts and talking in quiet voices when their unofficial leader plopped down with a grin.

"Let me guess," Diana said, "you got the Daystrom position."

Susan's grin slipped, and then reappeared. "No, guess again."

"You got laid by Jeremy Streckler?" Mary said.

"Ewww," Diana said with a wrinkled nose. "Streckler? Come on, even I could do better than Streckler."

"He's here," Susan said.

"Who, Admiral Riker?" Katherine said.

"No. Bill. I saw him in my thermal dynamics class yesterday."

The other three girls stared at her as if she were daft. "Really," she assured them. She removed her PADD and pulled up the public lists of students in her class. She turned in around so the others could see the name Bill Hogs clearly listed as a transfer student.

"It says he's special needs," Mary said.

"He didn't do very well in any of the sciences."

"But he's in thermal dynamics?" Katherine asked. "That's one of the hardest math classes there are. It's like pure applied quantum physics and a wash-out course at the Academy."

"Yeah, strange, isn't it?"

"How did he look?" Diana asked.

"Lost and tired," Susan admitted. "But very cute. It's almost a shame we'll be graduating at the end of this term."

Diana looked down at her fingers. "Do you ever…" She stopped and made a show of gathering the remains of her breakfast.

"Ever what?" Susan asked.

Diana started twirling a strand of her long red hair. "Do you ever dream about him?" she finally asked softly.

"What kind of dream are we talking about?" Mary asked with one elegantly arched brow.

Diana's blush, which was bright enough to make the freckles on her cheeks stand out in relief, was all the answer they needed. Surprisingly, it was Katherine who said yes. "Remember how he buried his face in my hip and cried? Sometimes I dream that he does that, only he isn't crying, and I'm not dressed." She sighed. "It's a good dream."

Susan looked from one to the other. "Well, we can't all have 'em," she declared, "and I'm the only one sharing a class with him, so there!" Just to emphasize, she stuck out her tongue.

"Brat," Katherine said. "Hey, does that mean all of us are dreaming about this kid? It's not like he's the best looking kid in school. There are taller, better looking boys."

"Taller, maybe," Diana said with a dreamy voice, "but not better looking." She looked up at Susan with her green eyes dripping with earnestness. "If I promise to be your bestest friend ever, would you share him?"

"That's just gross," Mary said.

Susan, though, found herself caught in her younger friend's gaze. She realized on some level that Diana was absolutely serious, despite framing the question as a joke for the sake of appearances.

"Yes," she said. "I would. And you know what? I think he would like it too."

"I bet he would," Mary muttered.

"Oh, like you wouldn't take a whack at him if you had the chance," Katherine said.

"What, and have him cry on my tits? I don't think so."

"He wouldn't though," Diana said, still with that odd, dreamy expression. "He'd know just what to do."

"You know," Susan said, "I think she's right. I think he would know just what to do."

Mary shook her head and stood up to go to class. "You are all insane. I love you, but you're insane."

"Kisses to you too," Katherine said.

* * *

sp

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**Author's Responses:**

Once again I am overwhelmed at all the reviews this story has received. I frankly thought I was the only one interested in an HP/ST:TNG era cross, but it looks like there are a few others out there as well. So, without further ado, I'd like to thank the following people for their reviews and comments:

Sharnorasian Empire; Vyrexuviel; OrionTheHunger; Obsidius; prudiisten; 1411eastwest; Brother Bludgeon; pulverizer; SomeGuyFawkes; wsbenge; Voldemort is Dead; dajohu; TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel (that's hard to type ;); gaul1; Pointer3109; XRaiderV1; Raven Marcus; Skuert; impatientuser; CatWriter; JEKrug01; Anaerobie; Roosterman71; that1; QOShea; Debbster21; Bobboky; GinaStar; Tilius; Wonderbee31; Manus Dei; Johnny Bravo J; madnarutofan; hemotem; Michael1ange1o; Gogolu; immortal7; FluffyNevyn; ThePink1 at ; and finally Maximillian1.

Thank you all for the wonderful comments and reviews.

Now, for everyone's least favorite part, questions and answers:

Q: 1) Grams is Hermione. only she'd be that thorough and preserve herself until her task is complete. 2) I like how they say cochrane fields are rare but normal, tho. it means that magic has still been around, just not recognized for what it is. more like codified into a rational system like any other ability.

A: 1) Nope, but another really good guess. Remember Gram's called Harry her grand papa. 2) Not necessarily, but that's a good thought. The TNG crowd has run into some fairly evolved species capable of things that may seem like magic but that do not fall into the HP classification of magic as such.

Q: If Troi is now Riker and a capt, how far in the future is this from the end of ST:NG?

A: This is set in 2392. For reference points, see my long and boring intro to Chap 1. Beverly Crusher, for instance, is well into her 60s now. I'll address ST characters briefly at the end of the Q and A.

Q: This is interesting in the fact that it seems like Harry will be slightly non combative. Which is a good thing for once, instead of the few Harry is presevered or jumps and becomes super-general. I like the idea of the challenge being him adapting to a culture that left him behind centuries ago. I think with the recent cast intos I am most looking forward to a Tuvak and Seven scene seeing as both offer a unique stand point in the universe.

A: Again, character notes at the end. But re: Harry's response--the ST universe while not at war is as close to an altruistic Utopia as its possible to come. The government is fairly enlightened and truly does have the best interest of the people in mind. When not at war, anyway. I chose this period because I wanted Harry to emerge in a time of peace.

And now, a brief note about the Star Trek Characters:

I wanted very much to ensure that Harry only meets those characters he would logically come into contact with. Since he is essentally a civilian, his contacts are primarily going to be related to his medical treatments. So, Naomi Wildman, Deanna Riker, (and by extension eventually her husband), Julien Bashir (and by extension his wife. And no, I'm not going to tell you, but DS9 fans can probably guess), Beverly Crusher will likely show up, and where Beverly goes, Jean-Luc is bound to follow. And because of Naomi's relationship with Janeway, we'll probably get to see here. We will not directly meet any other cast from Voyager; any other cast from DS9, or any other cast from St:TNG. We'll probably run into O'Brien as well since he is a professor at this time (and yes, Kirk is his son). I just couldn't think of any logical reason why Harry would meet Sisko (assuming he has resumed form), or LaForge, Tuvak, or Seven, who is with the Daystrom Institute. This is first and foremost Harry's story, so any ST characters he meets will have to have a logical connection to that story.

Hope that makes sense, and I hope you continue to read and enjoy.


	6. Natural Born Flyer

Because tomorrow is Halloween, I am posting this a night earlier. Author responses at the end:

* * *

**Chapter Six: Natural Born Flier**

"Dr. Wildman?"

Naomi looked up with a smile. "Nancy! Hello, how are you?"

Nancy Hall stepped into the young doctor's office. Nancy was in her mid-forties, and every time she dealt with Dr. Wildman she felt even older. She knew that Naomi was atypical because of a genetic anomaly that resulted in her growing rapidly in her first year, but it still seemed so odd to talk to a twenty-year-old Starfleet psychiatrist.

Still, there was no denying the assistance the young doctor had given with her residents. Naomi was a natural with children, the younger the better.

"So what can I do for you?" Naomi asked.

"I came by to talk about Bill Hogs. Are you still his primary therapist?"

"I am. Is there something wrong?"

Naomi removed a recording crystal. "He's been having really bad nightmares since he arrived. I'll come in and find him panting and soaked in sweat, and his room is just destroyed. I wondered at first if he was just sleep-walking or something. I discussed it with him and asked if he wouldn't mind having an automated monitor placed in his room, just to make sure he's okay. He was a little hesitant, but he finally agreed."

She handed the crystal over and said nothing else.

With a quirked brow (a habit learned from her instructor Dr. St'alar) Naomi placed the crystal in her desk monitor for a larger picture and watched. She saw Bill thrashing on the bed, moaning in an almost animalistic level of pain or anguish, or both. But what was really disconcerting were the objects that were flying around the room.

Bill was psychokinetic.

"That's interesting," Naomi said softly. "Has he demonstrated any psychokinetic abilities outside of his nightmares?"

"None that I'm aware of," Nancy said. "Doctor, since Hope's Point was established twenty-five years ago, I've seen children of almost every species represented in Starfleet and a few others besides. I've had dozens of Vulcans, several Betazoids and even a Deltan girl who made the boys swoon until her government was able to pick her up. But I have never seen anything like this before. Frankly I'm worried for the safety of the other residents."

Naomi nodded even while she continued watching the video. It took conscious effort for her to restrain the urge to run to him even now. It was dangerous, the thoughts he brought up in her. The professional, ethical part of her knew that she should request reassignment.

The woman in her dreaded the idea of never seeing him again.

"Psychokinesis in humanoids is exceedingly rare," Naomi finally told the director. "There have only been a few recorded cases. The Vorta, Ocompa and the Vulcans are the only carbon-based species known to possess it naturally, though with Vulcans it is almost exclusive to their most highly trained mystics and priestesses and limited to touch. There have been at least two known cases of the power occurring due to outside influences. A race calling themselves the Platonians developed it by ingesting a chemical native to their adopted world. However, the effects were temporary and the chemical as it turned out caused long-term racial sterility and psychosis. The other examples were two rated human psionics who were exposed to the psi-radiation in the galactic halo."

"Didn't they make a drama about that?" Nancy asked. "One of the Captain Kirk adventures?"

"Yes," Naomi said. She used to watch dramatic re-enactments of Captain Kirk's voyages as a child on _Voyager_, even while she and the crew of that similar-sized ship had their own adventures.

"So should I be concerned?"

"At this time, I don't believe so," Naomi said. "I would suggest you maintain the monitoring at night. We have our next session Friday after school—I'll suggest he start a dream journal. In the meantime, just keep an eye out for him."

"Well, thank you, Dr. Wildman."

"Naomi, please," she said.

Nancy smiled. "Of course. Thank you again."

* * *

"Well, you have to pick something," Kirk said to Bill on Wednesday. "You don't want to get stuck in general physical training. It's just jogging around in circles looking stupid. If you have to exercise, you should do something fun."

"Water volleyball?" Bill said, looking at one of the options.

"Good sport," Kirk said. "Especially on the co-ed teams." He waggled his brows.

"What is it?"

"It's volleyball in a pool of course."

"No, I mean volleyball."

After Kirk explained volleyball, and then water volleyball, Bill continued down the list. "Water polo?"

"Nah, don't want to do that," Kirk said. "School this size has its share of extremists, that's why they have water polo. You know what polo is?"

That, for reasons Bill could not understand, he actually knew.

"All right, so imagine instead of horses you're riding skimmers that can skim the water at two hundred klicks an hour, with long sticks you wave about at balls floating on the water in the bay. I've seen riders get pulled off when their bats hit the waves wrong. And when they wreck, it's terrible. Someone actually died a few years back. They talked about banning it, but then realized if they did the yahoos would find some other way to kill themselves. Least this way they have some modicum of control. But at the same time, you have to test really well to even be considered for a team. Most players have been riding skimmers for years."

Bill had tuned out everything his friend had said after "two hundred klicks an hour." He had a vague sensation—perhaps even a memory—of wind running through his hair. "I want to try it," he said at last.

Kirk O'Brian stared at him a moment. "You're insane, you know that?"

"If I am, I don't remember," Bill said.

O'Brian laughed. "Well, let's go talk to the team coordinator."

The coordinator eyed Bill speculatively, and then told him to meet after school for a dry run. Bill went back to classes and mucked through the work as best he could. He had lost hope of ever catching up in any of the sciences, even with the tutorials. But he was doing better in literature and understood most of what he was doing in thermal dynamics.

It helped that Susan would move next to him to look over the notes he took in his PADD. Her proximity was like an electric field for him. He would become jittery and excited, though he didn't know why.

Well, he did. He had the same sense of familiarity with Susan as he did with Naomi. It felt as if he should have known her from even before she and the others found him in Scotland.

When he told her which sport he chose, she stared at him with the same exasperation Kirk had shown. "Are you mad? That's the sport they invented to help weed out bad genes," she said. "The real dumb people get killed so they don't pass their idiocy on."

Bill stood up—class was over anyway. "Fine, then," he said. "I guess I'll just go be an idiot."

"Bill, wait…" Susan said, but Bill had already walked out and was making his way quickly through the ever-present press of students. He made his way down the twelve levels of the school until he reached the grounds that bordered the bay. He slowed as he reached his destination and got to see a water polo field.

The field of play was a giant circle in the bay perhaps five hundred meters in diameter. Floating stands connected by pontoon walkways lined the field, with force-field generators around each stand in case a flier lost control. There were already several fliers over the water, skimming just over the waves at break-neck speed. The fliers would bank back and forth across the surface, vying for the ball. The ultimate goal was to get the ball through the posts at either end of the oval playing area.

"So, Hogs," Jess Turney said, "I understand you're interested in playing a real sport."

Jess was seventeen, svelte, immensely pretty, and with a calculating cold look that told Bill she did not see him as a human being, but as a potential asset.

"I'd like to give it a try."

"Well, let's go look at a skimmer then."

The skimmer was a simple vehicle to operate. Speed and brakes were controlled by foot pedals. The handles controlled the ailerons, but those were just a part of the controls. The flier also had to have superb balance and be able to adjust that balance.

"Takes a lot of muscle to fly these," Jess told him. "People think it's like riding a tram, but these things don't have inertial dampeners. You feel every G you push, and it takes strength to maneuver them and use the mallet at the same time. Think you're up to it?"

Bill couldn't help his excited grin. "I'm willing to find out."

Back at the school, Diana found Susan sitting on a planter box that framed a large willow tree. "Susan, what's wrong?"

Susan wiped her eyes and stuffed her PADD into her satchel. "I was a jerk, that's what."

"What do you mean?"

"I basically said Bill was stupid when he said he was going to try out for the water polo team."

Diana shrugged. "Well, that is pretty stupid, so technically you were right. But on the other hand you probably shouldn't have told him that. Sometimes boys get touchy about being called stupid."

Katherine and Mary joined them. "Urrg," Katherine said, "I despise Mr. Straka. Why on Earth would they ever let a Betazoid teach comparative linguistics?"

"Because he's a telepath who can communicate with almost anyone and speaks four hundred languages?" Mary guessed.

Katherine, though, saw Susan's puffy red eyes and was no longer interested in complaining. "What's wrong with you?"

"She blew it with Bill," Diana explained. "Called him stupid for trying out for the water polo team."

"He's trying out?" Katherine said, eyes wide. "Come on then!" She snatched Susan's hand and pulled her off the planter. "They're doing skimmer tests now. If he's really going to try out, we should be there!"

Susan's own steps sped up and the four of them ran around the huge stepped pyramidal building that made up the 25,000 student school. Sure enough, they saw a small grouping of students standing on one of the pontoon bridges that ran around the field of play. The four of them joined.

"Hey, Jess," Katherine said.

"Dunningham," Jess said coolly. "Didn't think you wanted to try out again."

"I don't. I'm looking for a friend. I heard the new kid, Bill Hogs, might be trying out."

"No, he's not trying out," Jess said. She pointed out onto the water. "He's already made a team. Just haven't figured out which one."

Susan turned with the rest and watched astonished as Bill, grinning wildly, soared by on a skimmer at maximum speed. He took the turn so fast he actually ran up the side of the force field and did a barrel roll before coming back down to the water.

"I have never seen a more natural born flier," Jess said. "He's your friend, huh? How long has he been riding?"

"I don't know," Susan admitted.

"Well, whichever team gets him is probably going to win the season," she said. "He's nailed every shot we tested him on. His hand-eye coordination is as good as our Vulcan flier but his instincts are pure human."

"You are going to have to eat your words, Susan," Diana said.

"I know."

Out on the water, Bill laughed in sheer joy at the moment. The wind felt as good as he hoped it would, and the speed was exhilarating. He really wanted to fly high, but the skimmers could not get that much altitude. Still, it was the most fun he had since he woke.

Midway through his second trial, swinging the mallet and slamming the ball into the goals, he felt more than saw four familiar people nearby. He took a turn toward the school and saw them watching—all four of them from Hogwarts, including Susan.

He knew it was just showing off, but he could not resist the temptation and ran up along the edge of the force field to do a showy barrel roll. He finally went back and finished his tests before taking the skimmer back to the dock.

"I want him!" one of the team captains called.

"I've been on the list longer!" another said.

Bill grinned at Jess. "Does that mean I pass?"

"You pass. Stacey there has been on the new players list longest, so he does get first pick. Stacey Frakes, Bill Hogs. Hogs, Stacey Frakes."

Stacey was a blonde boy with brown eyes and sunburned cheeks. He grinned and flashed a perfect set of teeth as he held out a hand. Bill took the hand and the two shook energetically. "Glad to have you on the team," Frakes said. "We're going to have a lot of fun."

"Your friends enjoyed your show," Jess added.

Frakes looked back at the four girls waiting on a nearby pontoon and nodded. "Yeah, that is a story I would like to hear about. How the new guy managed to get four of the most beautiful but aloof girls in a school this big interested in him after only a few days."

"It is a long story," Bill said. He fought down an urge to budge past the two. "So, what next?"

"First practice is this Saturday," Frakes said. "Three hours. First hour is mainly just warm up exercises. Isometrics, things like that. Then two hours on the water playing and practicing."

"Can't wait," Bill said.

"See you then." Finally released, he stepped past them and forced himself to walk at a sedate pace toward the four girls. He felt their eyes on him, and inside something primal responded.

"Hi," he said.

"I'm sorry," Susan blurted. "We don't really know anything about you. We couldn't have known you were such a good flier."

"Didn't know myself," Bill admitted. "Just liked the thought of speed."

He turned to the others. "It's good to see you all again," he said. "Susan told me you were all here."

"All here," Diana echoed. "Just hanging out. Wish I could handle thermal dynamics."

"Hell, I'm probably going to Starfleet and I could barely handle it," Katherine muttered.

Mary shrugged. "I don't mess with that stuff. If it hasn't been dead and buried for a thousand years, it's just not that interesting."

Without warning, Diana stepped between the three other girls and wrapped herself in a hug around Bill. The other girls stared a little uncomfortably, but relaxed as Bill put his arms around her and rested his cheek against her head.

"I'll always remember how you tried to help me," he told the diminutive red-head. He looked up at all of them with an intense light in his green eyes. "All of you. I was alone and scared and you were kind to me. You protected me and fed me and made me think I wasn't completely alone. I owe all of you. Thank you."

"Hell, it's probably our fault you were there," Mary said.

"What do you mean?"

Susan stepped to his free side and rested a hand on his arm. "We need to show you some things, Bill. But it will take a while. Can you come by my house tonight?"

Bill flushed a little. "I'm not supposed to stay out past seven and it's almost that time. And I have an appointment with Dr. Wildman on Friday. Tomorrow I'm going to my tutoring session."

"Saturday you have practice," Katherine said. "What about after that? There's a really great restaurant nearby we could take you too. Surely they wouldn't make you stay in all day on a Saturday."

"I'll ask," Bill promised. "That would be really fun. Just being around you four makes this place a little better."

They turned and started walking along the bridge back to shore. "So tell us about Dr. Wildman," Susan asked. "Has she helped you remember anything?"

"A little,' Bill said. "Not much, though. But you'd like her. She's only twenty. There's a story behind that, too. You ever hear of a starship called _Voyager_?"

"Oh my God!" Katherine blurted. "That Naomi Wildman? The first UFP child born in the Delta Quadrant? Next thing you know you'll be having tea with Admiral Janeway and Doctor Riker."

"Okay," Bill said. He had no context to understand the furor. "Anyway, like I said, I think you'd like her. She reminds me of you four, actually."

"What do you mean?" Diana asked.

Bill paused in thought. Finally he shrugged and smiled at them. "I don't know. Just feels right, like you four do, you know?"

"I shouldn't know," Susan said, "but for some reason I know exactly what you're talking about."

* * *

"Susan?"

Jessica Chamberlain knocked on her daughter's door that night, and when she didn't immediately get a response she waved a hand over the sensor and stepped in after it slid back. She stopped just inside, her hand to her chest and a cry of alarm frozen on her lips.

"Peter!" she finally managed to cry. "Peter, help me!"

Her husband stumbled into the hall, bleary-eyed and disoriented from sleep but moving quickly because of the urgency in his wife's voice. He came into the room behind her but froze when he saw Susan.

Susan writhed on her bed. Sweat soaked through her pajamas and her hair spun about wildly as she tossed about on the bed so violently that she seemed almost to be suffering from convulsions.

"Help me hold her down," Peter said. He rushed in and tried to hold down her right foot and hand, while her mother followed a moment later on her left side. It was a struggle, though.

"Susan, wake up!" Peter cried at her. "Wake up!"

Susan shook her head and screamed as if in agony. Desperate, Peter reared back and slapped her. Neither he nor Jessica understood exactly what happened next. It felt like an invisible wall struck them and sent them both flying across the room until Peter slammed into one of the windows overlooking the city and his wife collapsed onto the ground.

"Oh God, Peter!" Jennifer whispered as Susan stopped writhing and sat up in bed. Her eyes had a preternatural silver glow in the darkness of her room. Without looking at them, she said in a contralto voice deeper than it should have been, "Hecate will rend your soul for eternity for this! I will haunt you till the end of your days. There will never be peace for you!"

Suddenly Susan's head snapped back as if struck and she screamed. One of the windows of their apartment cracked into a million fractures, and then exploded out onto the street eighty levels blow. Cool evening air blew into the room like a storm because of the pressure difference. An alarm went off, beeping crazily.

Against this new noise, Susan slumped back into her bed, as still as death.

"Peter!" Jennifer screamed. "Peter!"

Peter was already on his feet and rushed passed the debris caused by the howling wind and placed a finger to her neck. His daughter's own brown eyes met him in confusion. "Daddy?" she said. Her voice sounded hoarse. "What are you doing in here? And why's it so windy?"

* * *

sp

**Author's Responses:**

I would like to thank the following people for their reviews and comments: Sharnorasian Empire; Obsidiius; gaul1; dajohu; David Brown; Tilius; eav; hemotem; dexterZ; Roosterman71; FluffyNevyn; GinaStar; CatWriter; Anaerobie; impatientuser; Maximillian1; White Merlin; Vyrexuviel; caboy2005; immortal7; TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel; Bratling; Debbster21; Bobboky; Pointer3109; SomeGuyFawkes; JEKrug01; Gogolu; Wonderbee31; that1; jedidiah (love that name); Manus Dei and Tanydwr.

I appreciate all your comments and reviews very much. Now, on to everyone's least favorite part: Questions and Answers

Q: hey is there gonna be some naughty action later on?

A: Yes, but nothing on the scale of HP and the FF.

Q: hm...you are very close to making one of the critical character insert failures of fanfiction. Simply put, your main character, despite your claims, is not who you keep saying he is.

A: Hmmm, I respectfully disagree with you. I think HP in this story is very much in character with JKR's Harry Potter. A genuinely nice kid trying to figure out his place in the world. He may not match many pre-conceived Fanfic reader's conceptions, but that's not what I'm going for. Things will change once his experience catches up to him. That said, I firmly believe that if at any point this or any other story ceases to entertain you, you should stop reading. I've had several fics start out promising, and then I hit that one writing event horizon beyond which I can't return, and I dump it. I perfectly understand if someone feels the need to do that with any of my stories.

Q: So Grams is Harry's grand-daughter Lily, named for his daughter lily, who was named for his mother or something. Good story so far, I'm surprised that after to promising to die for Harry that the girls went their merry little way with no consequences. Hey, does that make one of the girls related to Harry by blood, no incest please, even if it is a generation or three removed it's gross

A: I don't know what you read, but it wasn't what I wrote :) Grams did not have any children. She adopted Susan's ancestor. And honestly, almost four centuries is more than a generation or three. Averaging four generations or more per century, after almost four centuries we're talking about 16 to 20 generations. Genetically speaking I could be more closely related to you than Harry is to any descendants he might have had. But, to stress again, Grams did not have any children.

Q: So why is Harry so good in advanced mathematics ?

A: It's not a plot device. Arithmancy is never really well defined in HP, so I posit that it is the mathematics behind magic, which within the frame work of this story is simply an expression of energy. This translates, again only in this fic, to the mathematics of power used by Starfleet for advanced sciences.

Q: Also there was this other cross-over fic I read...

A: Another reviewer mentioned it as well. I took a look at it, it has a great deal of telling rather than showing. It's a fine story within that context, but not one I would normally read. In any event it is most definitely a different story from this one. Other than the fact both stories have "Forever" in their title they have almost no relation to each other.

Q: To me, Bill's sudden appearance with new skin, no memories, and no knowledge except advanced math, it sound almost exactly like Kyle from "Kyle XY" tv show.

A: Kyle XY is another Roswell to me. One of those shows that I'm faintly guilty about liking. However, the appearance was actually based on the ritual used at the end of Harry Potter and the Four Founders. This is, after all, an indirect sequel.

Q: Chakotay, maybe? I mean, he just *might* follow on Janeway's heels. And Seven might get involved because, let's face it, Harry's appearance is *weird*.

A: I cannot deny this--I despised Chakotay. The actor was at best wooden, at worst constipated. For all the fact that it did have some decent episodes, Voyager had many weaknesses, made up only by Seven of Nine in a skin suit and heals. (I'm a guy--live with it).

Q: Which also reminds me, Harry would do quite well in the Star Wars universe.

A: It could still happen someday. As an alternative sequel to HP&FF. In fact I've already written a chapter, but I'll have to see if it's a viable plotline.

Q: Just how much time went by between the original series and TNG anyway? I think I remember Kirk and Picard being in one of the movies together, but that's about it. I'll have to go poke Wikipedia to get my bearings.

A: Bear with me. According to Memory Alpha, ST: TOS started in 2254 and ST:VI was set in 2293. TNG: S1 was set in 2364. DS9: S1 was 2369. The Movie with Kirk and Picard was set in 2371. DS9 ended in 2375. Voyager ended 2377-78. ST: Nemesis was in 2379. This story is set in 2392. So it has been 13 years since the events of Star Trek Nemesis. The events leading up to Nero traveling back and starting a new timeline occurred in 2387 after the destruction of Romulus. For the purpose of this story, Jean-Luc and Spock were successful in stopping the catastrophe that destroyed Romulus from wiping out the rest of the galaxy, but Spock is considered dead. The events of the movie _Star Trek_ occur in a completely different timeline.

To give you an addtional frame of reference, Jean Luc Picard was born in 2305 and in this story is 88 years old. Hope that helps.


	7. Therapy Sessions

Author's Responses at the end:

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Therapy Sessions**

"Kirk, you seen Susan today?" Bill asked.

Kirk shook his head. "No. She missed Linguistics too. Not like her. I don't think she's ever actually missed school before."

After classes Bill went out onto the patio where Susan said she and her friends would sometimes meet. After looking through the maze-like patio and the overwhelming press of other students for several minutes, he finally found Katherine, Mary and Diana. The three of them were sitting on a bench at the far end, nearest the grass that bordered the school on the city-side. More park land buffered the school on the other side of the tramline, before the towers of the city proper started.

"Hi," he said as he arrived. "Have you seen Susan? She wasn't in class today."

"We were just talking about that," Mary said. "We couldn't reach her until just a few minutes ago. She said something happened last night and her parents made her go to the hospital."

Bill blanched and sat down. "Is she okay? What's wrong?"

"She won't say," Diana said. "I'm really worried about her. She's been in the hospital all day. She said they were even going to go to Starfleet Medical to run some type of scan on her."

Bill took her hand, just as she held his hand when he first woke up in Scotland, and the three of them sat there thinking about Susan for the longest time. "If…if you hear from her, could you let her know I was thinking about her?" he asked.

He saw Diana's face drop and felt a stab of remorse. "I think about you too, you know," he said.

She perked up with a hesitant smile. "You do?"

"All the time," he said.

"It's always the red-heads," Mary muttered.

"Well, you have to admit Diana is awfully cute," Katherine said wistfully.

Bill shook his head. "I don't mean just Diana. I mean all of you. You four and Kirk are the only friends I have, and Kirk…it just doesn't feel the same with him or Frakes or even Jess. Not like it feels around you all. I do think about you all. I'm just worried about Susan."

Katherine scooted a bit closer and hung an arm around his shoulders. "We are too, Bill. If we hear anything, we'll let you know."

He leaned into the hug, smiling sadly. "Thank you."

* * *

"…and finally, at the request of San Francisco General we performed a deep-tissue resonance scan on eighteen-year-old Susan Chamberlain," Dr. Feingold in internal medicine said. "On Wednesday evening Ms. Chamberlain suffered night terrors, a possible personality shift, and according to her parents the patient evidenced some psychokinesis with the end result of her bedroom window shattering. Further examination found that the patient's menstrual cycle has also changed. Given that this was a residential tower rated for code, I can understand the parents' concerns regarding the broken window. We have put in a recommendation for the scanner to undergo maintenance as it was unable to penetrate beyond two millimeters. Logs indicate this is the second time the scanner suffered this problem."

Deanna Riker was not really been listening. Dr. Feingold's voice was rather monotonous, and he tended to speak very slowly with the effect of dulling the minds of all the other department heads around the table. However, there was something nagging her about the name Chamberlain.

She pulled Dr. Feingold's report to the side of her monitor and pulled up her personal report files in a separate window beside it. She associated the name with one of Naomi's cases. And…there it was. Susan Chamberlain. One of the four girls that found Naomi's mystery student. A student whose deep-tissue resonance scan only penetrated fifteen millimeters.

"Deanna?"

She blinked and looked up into the sharp, dry gaze of Chief Medical Officer Admiral Julian Bashir. He never missed anything. "Yes?" she said.

"You were having a thought regarding Hubert's report?"

"I'm sorry," Deanna said. "The name is similar to one connected to one of my area's cases. It seemed to be a large coincidence, that's all."

"Can you explain?"

She cleared her throat and looked around the table at the other department heads. "A month ago Susan Chamberlain and three other classmates went to Scotland for a memorial of a relative of hers. While they were there Starfleet observed a surge of unknown energy at their campsite. When Starfleet personnel arrived they found Susan and her friends with a teenage boy who had with no memory of his name or family, or how he came to be there. The investigating officer was assaulted, and so the boy was brought here. He had the same exact results on his deep-rez scan as Miss Chamberlain did. Dr. Wildman is his primary and has requested the use of the high powered scanner aboard the _Lauterbur_ when it returns to Space Dock."

"That does seem to be a rather large coincidence," Bashir said. Though Bashir was not the oldest man at the table, very few who knew or worked him questioned his abilities as Chief Medical Officer for all of Starfleet. "Were these girls questioned at the time?"

Deanna nodded. "It was the conclusion of Commander Paris, who oversaw the investigation, that the girls were lying about something. However, they were not directly involved in the altercation and we have no jurisdiction over Earth citizens."

"True, and a bit of a bother sometimes," Bashir said. "Perhaps it might be beneficial for Miss Chamberlain to also visit the _Lauterbur._ I bet if nothing else she and her parents would enjoy a tour of a starship."

* * *

Bill stepped off the tram with his school bag thrown over his shoulder. He looked up at Starfleet Medical and sighed. He wondered if Susan was there now.

He checked in as always at the security desk. They scanned him and his PADD to make sure he wasn't carrying any weapons, and he then took the lift to the fifth floor where the Psychiatric department was. Naomi was waiting for him when he arrived. "Good afternoon, Bill," she said brightly.

He loved her smile. It made the skin around the horns on her nose crinkle. "Hi."

"You look worried. What's wrong?"

"A friend of mine from school got sick. She sent a note to another friend that she was going to be seen in Starfleet medical. I was just worried about her."

Naomi knew immediately who he was talking about. "Well, I'm sure she's doing fine. Sit down. Have some water and tell me about your week."

He told her about water polo and Kirk O'Brien. He told her about Nancy and the bad dreams he was having. He didn't mention what was happening during those dreams.

"Do you ever remember anything from the dreams?" Naomi asked.

"No. Just… If I really bad things happened to me, do you think I could still remember the pain even if I didn't remember the details?"

"Do you think bad things happened to you?"

Bill shuddered. He physically shuddered at whatever thoughts he had plaguing his dreams. "The dreams feel more real than my normal dreams. They hurt. It's like I can feel someone cutting me with a knife. There's one dream where all I see is a flash of green and a woman screaming, but it's actually one of my worst dreams."

Naomi discussed the idea of a dream journal, and then they started talking about the when the _Lauterbur_ would be in space dock and what it would be like to transport up to the station. Bill admitted he was excited at the idea of being in outer space on board a real space ship.

"So, Bill, have you met any pretty girls?" Naomi asked with a sly smile.

He blushed brilliantly. "A couple," he said. "You'd like them, I think. They actually remind me of you."

"How so?"

"They're smart and pretty. One of my friends, Susan, was interviewing at a place called the Daystrom Institute that only takes the smartest people in the Federation. Another one of my friends named Katherine said she has already been accepted into Starfleet Academy. I'm just sad they're going to be leaving school soon."

"Well, I'm sure you'll make other friends. Is Kirk O'Brien's graduation soon as well?"

"I think he has another year to go, but it's not the same as Susan, Katherine or the others."

"Why is that?"

"Just doesn't feel the same."

Naomi was fighting with every ounce of her professional training not to smile too brightly at his description of her as smart and pretty. It was an almost juvenile description, and yet for some insane reason it made her ridiculously happy.

"Bill, I know it doesn't seem like it, but things like this could be important. What is it about Susan, Katherine and presumably these other friends that makes you feel differently about then that Kirk. Is it because they're girls?"

"Well, maybe," Bill said. "There's another girl named Jess. She's the team coordinator for the water polo clubs. She's very pretty and also smart, and I caught her looking at me yesterday. She gave me a bright smile and one of the other players said I should ask her out."

"But you didn't?"

Bill shook his head. "She doesn't feel like the others. When I'm with Susan, Katherine Diana and Mary it feels like I can be myself. I know it doesn't make any sense, but it feels like they're just like I am. That they understand me. I don't really want to start anything with anyone else. I guess that's why I'm so worried about Susan. Do you know if she's here?"

"I don't deal with civilian medical cases," Naomi said honestly. "My only concern right now is you."

Bill studied her for a moment before nodding. "So, when is the _Lauterbur_ getting in again?"

"It's actually ahead of schedule and should be arriving in about a week."

He grinned. "So, I found out something today that I wasn't aware of. The Earth history class is planning a trip to England to study the concentration camps from the last world war. I would like to go as well, but I'm not sure whose permission I need to ask for. The teacher suggested I ask you."

"Technically Director Hall acts as your guardian until you come of age, but she would defer any such decision to me. When is the trip?"

"Three weeks."

Naomi thought it over. "I actually think that is a good idea. In fact, I might even volunteer to chaperone for your group."

"So you can be close to me if I remember anything," Bill concluded.

"Of course. That and I've always wanted to travel around the planet a little. I've been on Earth for several years now, but there are still many places I haven't been. I'll admit London wasn't at the top of my list. I have just a touch of empathic abilities and places that have seen huge amounts of death affect me a lot. But if our suspicions are correct and you actually are from London, then it might be the best thing we could hope for to have you go back. I'll send Nancy a recommendation that you be allowed to go."

"Thank you!" Bill said.

The next day Bill had his first water polo practice. As much as he enjoyed it, he couldn't help but think of Susan. Since no one had heard from her, their afternoon date was put on hold. He made his way back to Hope's Point after practice and spent the rest of the weekend working with his tutorials to try and catch up a little.

* * *

Carey Boxing was of the opinion that there were only two kinds of red-heads. The kind who were simply gorgeous, and the rest of them that were not. It was a hair color and complexion that did not suit all body types. She herself was, in her mind, an example of the latter kind. She was overweight, but still somehow managed to have a flat chest, and had a heaviness about her jowls that made it look as if she were frowning all the time.

There was a man who loved her once, when she was much younger and thinner. Stan wasn't the best lover in the world, and he certainly wasn't the most beautiful man in the world, but she never doubted for an instant that he loved her. He didn't mind that her tummy was a little too large even when she was young, or that her breasts were little more than swells on her chest. He adored her so absolutely that he made her feel beautiful even if she wasn't.

He was an enlisted man onboard the USS _Majestic_ during the Federation's offensive to retake a space station on the edge of Dominion-held space. He left with such optimism. "We are going to win this one, Carey!" he told her.

She was four months pregnant, although she had managed to hide it so far. Her dumpy figure proved perfect for concealing her condition. She did not want him worrying about her or their future as he flew off into battle.

She celebrated in the street with everyone else when news came of the victory. It was the first outright victory of the war. It wasn't until a week later when the handsome young lieutenant came by to give her his effects, a posthumous medal for valor and a letter from Captain Sisko informing her of her loss.

She didn't cry that night. She saw her husband on average three months a year because of his long tours of duty. The _Majestic_ was not a deep-space ship and so there was never any consideration of her joining him, nor would she want to. She was used to eating alone.

And sleeping alone.

No, the grief did not come for another five months. It was as if the realization that her husband was dead simply got put on hold during her difficult pregnancy, until the very end. There she lay, recovering from a terrible labor, holding this precious, incredible child. And she was alone. Her own parents were dead, and Stan's parents were on Proxima. She had no one to share this miracle with, and the agony of grief struck all at once. She held her precious little Diana and cried for a solid hour.

She slipped into the apartment and pulled her shoes off with a sigh of relief. Carey ran a flower stand on the Strand. It did not pay very much, but arranging flowers was one of the very few things she was actually good at.

One day, a pretty Orion woman came and made a comment about the prices. "It's not like you Feddies even use money, is it?" the woman asked.

It was a common misconception, often shared by those outside the Federation, or those within it who had enough money not to care.

All economies had to have a medium of exchange in order to survive. Even the most advanced theorists agreed that a true, idealistic communist human government would collapse in on itself regardless of how hard-working people were. There had to be an agreed medium of exchange for labor and goods. However, money did not mean the same in the 24th Century as it did in the 20th.

In the 24th Century, in exchange for half of what everyone made, necessities of life were free. Housing, food, transportation and medical care were provided for. Education was universal. Money simply provided additional creature comforts. Free housing did not come with large view monitors for infonet surfing. The flowers in her shop did not come to her for free. A third bedroom for her daughter's music and her puzzle table was not free.

Though the Boxing family was poor by Federation standards, they had never had to choose between paying rent or paying medical bills. They had never faced starvation because they did not have money to buy food.

Instead, Diana could not go shopping for clothes with her friends. She often had to use government vouchers, and only the most basic retailers accepted those vouchers. They had to use a public food replicator sometimes since they could not afford fresh food.

And so Carey Boxing worked hard to provide that third bedroom. She worked hard so that her daughter, who did not have friends until they arrived in San Francisco, could have an occasional day out with those friends without embarrassment.

Money in 24th Century Earth did not provide subsistence. It provided pride.

She found the left over Thai food in the fridge. Diana must have left it for her. She smiled to herself as she opened the box. No much was left, but it had been a treat to eat out together. She also had a bottle of wine. It wasn't Chateau Picard, but for the price it wasn't bad, and even if it were she would not have known any better.

She settled down in her chair with a sigh, ate her small dinner and drank her wine.

She heard a loud _thunk_ from Diana's room but paid it no mind. It was very late and she suspected her daughter just knocked something off her end table. A moment later she heard an even louder _THUNK_, followed by a nerve-shattering scream.

Carey dropped her glass of wine as she ran into Diana's room. Just inside the door she froze, stunned. Diana was bouncing on the bed screaming. Not just bouncing, but almost flying into the air and coming down violently as if being yanked about on a buoyant rope. The lights overhead flickered on and off, and without warning Diana's evening lamp flew across the room and shattered just a meter from Carey's head.

Suddenly Carey's beautiful little angel bounced up to her feet. Her face took on a strange, terrified expression, while her eyes assumed an ethereal silver glow. "Harry will come for us, you bastard!" she cried out.

Carey slid to the floor, shaking her head. It was not her daughter's voice. The voice she heard was mature and deep and strong. It was the voice of a woman, not a teen-age girl. Even as she watched, dark emotions played across her daughter's face. Her shoulders slumped in defeat, and she made just the faintest of whimpers before she snapped her head back and fell boneless to the bed.

It took all the will Carey could summon to push herself to her feet, stumble forward, and look down at her daughter's sweaty brow. She started weeping in earnest when she saw Diana's chest rise with a deep breath. The beautiful girl with the bright red hair opened her green eyes and stared up in confusion.

"Mom?" she asked. "Why are you crying? Have you been drinking again?

* * *

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**Author's Responses **

I'd like to thank the following people: Roosterman71; OrionTheHunter; Manus Dei; gaul1; GinaStar; SomeGuyFawkes; Obsidius; Tilius; immortal7; JEKrug01; Vyrexuviel; Dajohu; Ryan Chessman aka Crys; Debbster21; Bobboky; Gogolu; Maximillian1; Ciroth; Wonderbee31; prometheus; Anaerobie; Emperor Vanquest; idrinkstellaartois123; and finally Isis the Sphinx. I really appreciate all the comments and feedback.

Now, for everyone's least favorite part: Questions and Answers

Q: I just have to say though that the name Bill Hogs gets to me for some reason, not sure why but it does.

A: Not really a question, but I sympathized so thought to answer. I didn't like the name either, and I came up with it. He was shuffled through a bureaucracy, for better or worse. The first name of course came from the girls. Since he had no last name, a bureaucrat simply applied the first name from Hogwarts Valley. At least they had enough courtesy to leave off the Warts part. But yeah, it was intentionally an off-putting name.

Q: A warning (from a reader, for whatever that's worth): Please don't drop a whole lot of "names" on us so quickly. Yes, it's interesting to see what happened to Deanna, Naomi, Annika, (Miles and Keiko's son) Kirk, and so on, but force-feeding us so many, so quickly almost feels like you're doing it for the sake of telling us what happened to everyone after their respective series.

A: 1) Thanks for dropping by. I read and thoroughly enjoyed _Chattel_ and highly recommend your other stories as well. In fact, the entire Fan.... 2) Now that that's out of the way--as I indicated in the previous chapter, I'm trying my best to make sure those names that do pop up have a reasonable link to Harry's story. Hence no Chakotay, Geordi LaForge, etc. Those names that do have a role have that role for a reason and will be featued sufficiently to hopefully limit the amount of name confusion readers may have.

Q: I just wonder when Q is going to notice...

A: This actually goes back to Crys's point. I could not come up with a reasonable and appropriate role for Q in the context of this story. I did have Amanda, the young Q in a previous draft, but that line didn't go anywhere. Adding Q would just be sort of gratuitous.

Q: I just want to see Harry do some magic and start getting his memory back, starting with his name.

A: Yeah, a bit to go on that. I know it's going slow, but on the other hand I'm updating weekly, so we'll get there eventually. Promise.

Q: Also, what happened to reveal the existance of Hogwarts Valley?

A: It's a dead valley. No wards of any kinds, just the ruins of the castle and the devastated valley around it. However, ST canon does have psychics, and Hogwarts was most definitely haunted, so those who did wander by to look at the last nuclear impact of WWIII and had a tough of magic or psychic abilities noticed the haunting, and its repulation grew until it was considered the most haunted place on earth.


	8. Night Terrors

Author's Responses at the end:

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Night Terrors **

Two old friends shared a beer and played darts at the Observation Deck Bar and Grill. It was a tradition that went back in one form or another for over twenty years.

"Kirk was telling me that the Stingrays have a new player at his school," Professor of Engineering Miles O'Brian said. "Said he's the best flier the school has ever seen. You'd think he'd won the season already, he's so happy about it. Still don't understand it myself—the school fields six teams. Anyway, this new flier had the strangest name. Bill Swine? Bill Hoars?"

Dr. Julian Bashir had near perfect recall. He never forgot a name. "Bill Hogs?"

"Yeah, that's! Hey, how'd you know his name? Jahdzia and Ben aren't in high school yet and I know Ezri doesn't follow water polo!"

"He's being treated at Starfleet Medical," Bashir said.

Technically, it was a huge breach in confidentiality for Bashir to say even that much. However, the relationship he shared with Miles was such that he knew his friend would die before repeating a word to anyone. Miles was as close to Bashir's therapist as he could get.

"Really? Kirk thinks a lot of him. He's special needs, but in thermal dynamics, which I can tell you was not an easy class."

"He was found a little over a month ago with amnesia," Julian said. He nailed another bull's-eye. He threw from two meters further out than O'Brian.

"That's interesting." Miles could say so much with so few words. "Wouldn't be related to that unknown energy surge in Scotland, would it?"

"Let me guess," Bashir said, "they asked you to take a look?"

Miles grinned. "The theoretical people were all scratching their heads, so Starfleet asked some of us good-old-fashioned grease monkeys to take a look."

"What did you find?"

"Honestly, it reminds me of Q."

"Really? How so?"

"Well, there was obviously an energy source of some kind. With full scanners Space Dock can even pick up camp fires. This surge was visible from orbit, albeit as little more than a dot of bright light. But what they're not releasing to anyone outside the know is that it wasn't the energy scanners that detected it. Purely visuals."

"Which means?"

"Anything that produces the lumens to be visible from orbit has to have some type of energy reaction. If it was a chemical light source, then the remains of the chemicals should have been evident. There were none. If it was electrical, then we would have picked it up. If it was electromagnetic, nuclear, or anti-matter based, we would have picked it up as well. It produced photons—something interacted with the visual scanners, but it was as if the source of the photons did not exist. And there is only one instance I personally have ever seen where light is produced without heat, energy or chemical reactions."

"The Q," Julian said.

"Just a thought," O'Brian said with a shrug.

"So you think this boy could be a Q?"

"Ever read about Amanda Rogers?"

Bashir had to search his memory a little. "Ahh yes, the Q born to human parents. That occurred on the _Enterprise_ before you came to Deep Space Nine, didn't it? Her parents were Q and took on human form to experience how we live."

Miles nodded. "Maybe this boy was Q and assumed human form. You'd never know."

"Very interesting," Bashir said as he hit another bull's-eye.

That afternoon, after finishing an enjoyable lunch with his friend, Bashir put his afternoon appointments on hold and strode to the psychiatric department. He discovered, however, that Deanna was not alone.

"I'm sorry," he started to say. "I can come back."

"It's all right," Dr. Riker said quickly. "Doctor Bashir, this is Father Clair Mendoza from the San Francisco Catholic Diocese. Father Mendoze, this is our Chief Medical Officer, Doctor Julian Bashir. And you know Dr. Wildman of course."

"And honor to meet you, Doctor Bashir," Father Mendoza said. He offered a strong handshake which Bashir accepted.

"A pleasure," Bashir said. He nodded to Naomi. "What brings you to Starfleet Medical today, Father?"

"Father Mendoze was discussing a parishioner of his named Diana Boxing," Deanna said. "Diana was with Susan Chamberlain in Scotland."

Bashir met Deanna's eyes and did not need to be empathic to understand she wanted him in this meeting. "How very serendipitous. I was actually coming to talk to you about that. May I join you?"

"Please do," Father Mendoza said with easy grace. "I suspect Dr. Riker and Dr. Wildman would have called you anyway, for our church has received a most unusual and disturbing request."

The four of them resumed their seats and Medoza explained. "As you know, the Catholic Church has continued to serve the people of Earth for many centuries. Our role has changed over the years and our reach is not nearly what it once was, even as we fund missions to the stars, but we continue to believe in the power of the Lord and his Son. However, this faith is also tempered with the knowledge of science. There are many rituals that the Church has not seriously considered in centuries. Therefore, the request Ms. Boxing made of us caught us all by surprise. Ms. Boxing has made a formal request for an exorcism for her daughter Diana. She claims last night her daughter was possessed. That objects flew through her room without obvious reason, and that her daughter spoke in someone else's voice. Ms Carey has visited my church for three years, and I have never seen her so upset."

Bashir shared a very long glance at Deanna and then to Naomi. Both women knew more than they were saying. "What is the Church's official response?"

"It is me, asking a friend to help me assist this child. Naomi here has worked with me with several of our parishioner's children and I knew she would at least hear me out. Diana was distraught as much by her mother's distress as by anything. She says she was only having a bad nightmare and has no memory of what her mother describes."

"Does Ms. Boxing have any religious or moral qualms against modern medicine?" Bashir asked carefully.

"She knows that some tests fall outside the normal range of approved treatment for basic needs families. Evidently a friend of hers has been ill and this was on the mother's mind."

"Father, could my colleagues and I have a word?" Bashir asked.

He nodded. Julian and Deanna quickly retreated to her nearby private office with Naomi a step behind. "This is more than a coincidence," Bashir said at once.

"I was about to call you," Deanna confirmed. "Watch this."

She pulled up the recordings of Bill Hogs' nightmares. There were many more after that initial recording, coming from Nancy almost every night now. Julian watched in silence, a thumbnail to his mouth in pensive thought.

"Have we heard anything from the other two girls?" Bashir asked.

"Not yet," Naomi said. "But we will. Bill has repeatedly said that Susan, Diana and the other two are familiar to him. That he feels more comfortable around them than his other friends. It is more than just a casual comfort. He has told me there is something specific in the way they respond to him, and the way he responds to them, that feels different than with anyone else."

Deanna was not looking at Julian, she was studying Naomi. "I think you should tell him, Naomi," she said.

"Tell me what?" Bashir said.

"Another recording," Naomi explained with an embarrassed frown. The image changed from Bill's night terrors to one of a young woman in the throes of a terrible nightmare. A picture flew off the wall and the whole bed rattled. Suddenly the figure sat up with a glow to the eyes that was clearly visible to the recorder. In an altogether eerie voice, the figure said, "Harry will win the war!" Her head snapped back and she fell onto the bed, boneless. A few minutes later she stirred in her bed and sat up normally.

"That's…that's you, Dr. Wildman," Bashir said, stunned.

Naomi was blushing as she nodded. "The only memory I have is of a nightmare. Prior to that I had some very erotic dreams. I started developing feelings for Bill, but honestly thought I could keep them under control. But I started having intense dreams, and then these nightmares started. And…well, it appears that my menstrual cycle has changed just like Susan's. Though we don't know for sure about Diana Boxing, I know that I and Susan Chamberlain are now on the same exact cycle."

Bashir stammered a moment before becoming silent. Finally, he said, "Do you in any way believe these feelings have been manipulated?"

"I don't believe so, Doctor, but at the same time I could not rule out the possibility. Though I am professionally credentialed, I'll be the first to admit I don't have a great deal of personal experience in the romance department. I am young for my station, which is why I generally accept cases for young children, and I led a sheltered childhood. I'm beginning to suspect it was a mistake for me to work with a teen-ager, especially one like Bill."

"Okay, then who is Harry?" Bashir asked.

"A good question," Naomi said. "We don't know."

"Whatever is happening has now affected one of my staff personally," Bashir said. "I'm going to order the _Lauterbur_ to skip its last scheduled stop and return early. In the meantime, Dr. Wildman, I want you to undergo a full physical."

"I suspect my deep-tissue resonance scan will have the same results as Bill's and Susan's," Naomi predicted.

"Be that as it may, we still need to make sure." He led the two women back into the room with the waiting priest. "Father Mendoza, we would like to meet with Diana and her mother as soon as possible. Today if we can. There are some tests we would like to perform. Please assure her mother the tests will be done by Starfleet as part of a larger inquiry and she will not have any expenses."

"I will do so, thank you," Mendoza said. When he was gone, Bashir said, "Contact the parents of the other two. I want those girls in isolated observation until the _Lauterbur_ arrives. In the odd event this is a pathological event, I do not want to take the risk of it spreading."

"If the parents object?"

"Then I'll go to the local Center For Disease Control and declare it a public health risk. At that point the issue will be Federalized and Starfleet can then step in. One way or the other, I want everyone involved in the Scotland incident isolated. Dr. Wildman, I'm sorry, but this will have to include you."

"I know, Doctor," Naomi said. "If nothing else it will give me time to continue my research on his past."

* * *

Mary Caraough was worried. She did not even get a message from Diana. The girl just never showed up on the tram. She sought out Katherine and found her on their bench, looking out over the water.

She was smiling.

"What's up with you?" Mary demanded.

Katherine blinked and looked up at her with a broad smile. "Oh, nothing. How are you?"

"Girl, that smile is not nothing. You look like you just got to make out with Admiral Riker."

"It was nothing, just a silly dream," Katherine said with a flush that ran down below her neck.

Mary said: "You dreamed about Bill, didn't you?"

"He was kissing me," Katherine said with a dreamy smile. "He started at my ankle and just started kissing me up my leg. It felt so good. I've never had a dream like that before."

"I dreamed he was blowing raspberries on my stomach," Mary admitted. "And they turned into kisses the lower he went."

Katherine laughed weakly. "We've both got it bad, don't we?"

"Yeah. Have you seen Diana?"

Katherine frowned. "No, I haven't. And still no word from Susan. She's never missed this much school before, and no calls over the weekend at all."

Then Bill was there. Mary knew even before she saw him. It was like she had some strange compass in her body that flipped over entirely as soon as he drew near. She turned slowly and faced him. She felt her heart beat a little faster and derided herself for it. He was so very obviously interested in Susan, or maybe even Diana. Why would he be interested in the brainy historian?

"Hi!" he said, smiling.

The smile was blinding and made her hand tremble. It wasn't that it looked any more brilliant than any other smile. It wasn't that Bill looked any better than any of the other handsome young men that attended the school. And yet the smile hit her with almost physical force.

_My God_, she thought to herself, _am I in love with this boy_?

He sat down between them. "Have either of you heard from Diana? The school attendance roll said she'll be out today."

"No, we haven't," Katherine said.

"First Susan and now Diana." Bill looked first at Katherine, then Mary. "I don't think I could stand it if I lost all four of you."

Mary lost the fight to still the tremble in her hand. Desperate to move, she took his left hand only to see that Katherine had the other. "You won't lose us," Mary said. "Any of us. I just bet Susan and Diana have the Andorian flu or something. They'll probably be back in a day or two."

Bill squeezed their hands and smiled. "I hope you're right. It doesn't feel right, you know, just with half of us."

_Us._ His hand felt warm, much warmer than any other hand she had ever held. But it was not uncomfortable. Quite the contrary; the warmth of it washed through her in gentle waves that made her feel at once sleepy and exhilarated. "Why do you make me feel this way?" she whispered.

Bill looked at her, surprised. "I…I'm not sure. What do you mean?"

From the other side, Katherine said, "I dreamed about you last night, Bill. So did Mary. We think about you all the time. I know Diana and Susan do to. Why? Why do you make us all feel this way?"

"I don't know," Bill admitted. "But…I hope I'm not hurting any of you. I just…I don't want to be alone. It feels right to have you nearby." He held up their hands, and very deliberately kissed each one. The contact of his lips on their knuckles made both shudder. "I want to be with you. All of you. I just wish I had the words to explain it better."

Mary found herself looking at the tattoo on the hand she held. It was in the shape of a medieval shield with a bird—either an eagle or a raven she couldn't tell—flying over a field of silver and blue. Without understanding what she was doing, and because of the warmth in her hands, she started to bring the back of his hand to her lips.

She felt Bill tense and hold his breath, but he made no effort to stop her.

Unfortunately, someone else did.

"Hello," a deep voice said.

Mary dropped Bill's hand with a startled yelp. Bill and Katherine also looked up. Other students were watching from a safe distance as four Starfleet officers stood with one of the assistant principals and a local police officer.

"Mary Caraough, Katherine Dunningham and Bill Hogs?"

"Yes," Katherine said.

"I'm afraid we need you to come with us." The speaker was a handsome young man in a gold and black Starfleet security uniform.

Katherine shook her head stubbornly. "We're minors and Earth citizens. We don't have to go anywhere with you."

"Katherine!" Mary hissed. "Don't talk back to the people with guns."

"Don't worry about that, Miss Caraough," the leader of the Feddies said. "You're not in any trouble. Mrs. Franks and Officer Sanchez can verify that the school was contacted by your parents giving us permission to pick you up. This is about your friends Susan Chamberlain and Diana Boxing. Will you come with us, please?"

Mentioning their friends seemed to make Katherine and Mary relax a little, but Bill hung back. "What's this about?" he asked. "Where are you taking us?"

"You will be taken to Starfleet Medical," the Starfleet Officer said. "After that, you'll have to talk to one of the doctors there."

Bill shook his head stubbornly. "I don't want to go."

"Young man," Mrs. Franks said, "you are a ward of the Federation. They do have the right to take you. Please, they just want to help you and your friends."

"Starfleet Command, this is Ensign Stathers, subjects are one meter in front of me. Please beam directly to Starfleet."

"No!" Bill said.

"Ensign Stathers, this is Command," responded a voice through the ensign's com badge, "we are unable to get a lock on any of the subjects. Subjects appear to be generating an energy field that is interfering with transport."

"You're kidding," Katherine said. "I took a transporter just a month and a half ago to Scotland!"

Ensign Stathers just shrugged and rolled his eyes. "Officer, I don't suppose you would be willing to give us a ride to Starfleet Medical?"

Officer Sanchez shrugged. Mary noticed the man was grinning. "I've never had the pleasure of having to transport Starfleet on official business. It'll make a fun report."

Stathers shook his head and grinned back sheepishly. "I'm sure it will. Thank you." He turned to the kids. "Miss Dunningham, Miss Caraough, your parents will be meeting us at Medical. Will you come peaceably?"

"Of course we will," Mary said quickly. She turned and saw Bill's expression. Once more she took his hand. "It'll be okay, Bill. We'll be with you."

That seemed to register with Katherine and she too took his hand. Like before, Mary held his left and Katherine held his right. The touch seemed to strengthen him in the way he straightened. "All right," he said at last.

The police vehicle was essentially a hoversled that was spacious enough to carry all of them. They could hear the officer speaking to his station. "That's right, couldn't transport. Yes, I've got footage." He turned around and grinned at Stathers. "Yes, sir. I'll make sure to keep the video safe. Thank you sir."

Stathers turned red. "We're not going to live this down, will we?"

Officer Sanchez laughed. "Not anytime soon, no."

"You know I was in elementary school when Martial Law was declared," Stathers pointed out.

"I wasn't," Sanchez said, still grinning.

Stather's sighed. Mary knew exactly what they were talking about. The declaration of martial law on Earth by the Federation President during the Dominion War was the greatest controversy the Earth Parliament had dealt with in a century. The fact that a local planetary government was essentially rendered powerless with the stroke of a pen was a wake-up call not just for Earth, but for all the core Federation worlds.

The Articles of Federation were amended shortly after, with additional statutes being passed by the Earth Parliament curtailing federal powers over local issues. Local authorities still resented having armed Starfleet personnel patrolling the streets even seventeen years later.

Finally, the police van reached the tram platform in front of Starfleet Medical and they all poured out. Stathers made a point of politely thanking the police officer. Sanchez took the younger man's hand. "Don't worry, kid. You should have seen the roast we did of Riker when he assumed the Sector post here."

"Actually, I think I watched that on the infonet," Stathers said. "I think he had more fun with it than you did."

"Yeah, he's a good man." Sanchez nodded to them and walked back into his van. Stathers motioned for his fellow officers and their wards to continue through the platform. Because of the sheer amount of service that Medical provided to the community, the platform was crowded with the elderly and infirm.

From amidst that crowd, Katherine saw her mother and father.

"Bill," Katherine said, "whatever my mother says, please don't listen."

Commander Marilyn Dunningham marched across the platform like a soldier marching to war. Civilians and innocent bystanders dodged out of her way, while her husband followed behind as if caught in her wake.

"Katherine Anne Dunningham, what have you been doing?" Dunningham said. "The CMO is on the verge of declaring you a biohazard!" She then turned to Bill and her eyes narrowed in rage. "You! What the hell did you do to my daughter in Scotland? What are you doing to Mary?"

"Commander," the Ensign said firmly, "this is not the place."

"I'll pick any place to talk to my daughter I choose, Ensign!" Dunningham snapped.

"Commander, if you do not calm down and accompany us into the building I will be forced to stun you. My orders come directly from Admiral Bashir and have been countersigned by Admiral Riker."

That shut Katherine's mother up, at least for the moment. "Fine," she snapped.

Bill blinked. "I don't think she likes me," Bill whispered loudly.

"I think you're right," Katherine responded likewise.

"I think you're both idiots," Mary said. "I love you both, but you're idiots."

They followed the ensign and Katherine's parents while the three other security officers fell in behind them. They proceeded into the building and went up to the fifth floor. They were met almost immediately by Naomi Wildman.

It was the first time Bill had ever seen her out of uniform. She was wearing a pair of black slacks and a dark green blouse. "Hello, Bill," she said. She nodded to Stathers. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

Bill squeezed the two hands he was holding before he let go and followed Naomi into a room just off the hallway. It looked familiar—comfortable with a couch and a chair, a small bathroom and a food replicator. It was just like the room he first woke up in when he arrived.

He turned around and saw that the door behind them had shut, and had a small red gleam from the panel to indicate it was locked. "What's going on?" he demanded.

"You need to sit down, Bill, we have a lot to talk about," Naomi said.

* * *

sp

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**Author's Responses**

I would like to thank the following people for their reviews and comments:

arturus; kb0; pulverizer; Sir Trib The Bold; Obsidius; OrionTheHunter; Isis The Sphinx; Tilius; SomeGuyFawkes; Sharnorasian Empire; Pointer3109; AnimaLynx; Gogolu; JEKrug01; Crys; dajohu; Roosterman71; Bobboky; Debbster21; cruailsama; gaul1; imgonnadie (hope not); Wonderbee31; immortal7; Manus Dei, Matt and Dream's Abyss. I greatly appreciate your comments and inputs.

Now for everyone's leas favorite part: Questions and Answers:

Q: Great chapter as usual. And not to belabor a point that likely several people have mentioned, I wish things moved faster!

A: I will admit I was worried that I might start losing people with Chapter 7. It had to be done, but it stretched the pace out a little slower than I wanted. However, from this point forward things are going to start moving faster.

Q: Im assuming that each of the ladies is having an episode due to the faded remnants of the magic and spirit at hogwarts, but will they start to remember being luna, ginny, etc as a past life? Or start becoming them in certain ways?

A: Can't really give too much away on that, but they will not specifically remember the others.

Q: And the four original girls are connected to Harry's past because they helped bring him to the future?

A: Yep. More on that will come.

Q: There seems to be some confusion where Jennifer's name was switched for Susan

A: I noticed that too. I think it's fixed.

Q: Here are some ideas I had...

A: While I always greatly appreciate comments and feedback, I rarely if ever accept story ideas from reviews, mainly because by the time I start posting, the story is either completely done or so far done that such ideas simply don't fit. That said, if someone finds something completely, absolutely wrong or broken, I'm usually willing to go back and take a look. As for OC/OOC, since the girls are OC, they can't really be OOC. And the remarks on Harry being OOC, I again respectfully disagree. I believe a lot of readers allow their opinion of Harry to be influenced by fanfiction rather than the original material. But then again this is completely subjective and just my opinion, and in no way implies that those who disagree don't have valid points themselves.

Q: From what's been doing on during the girls' dreams, I get the feeling that something very bad happened to Harry's wives, and it probably had something to do with the wars of Star Trek's past.

A: I can't really say too much here, other than to remind those not intimately familiar with ST to go back and read my author's notes.

Well, thanks again to everyone for reading. Hopefully the increase in pace will help.


	9. The Power of Love

Author's Responses at the end:

* * *

**Chapter Nine: The Power of Love**

Bill did not sit down. He started pacing nervously.

Naomi sat down and fought a sigh. "Bill, please sit down."

"We didn't do anything!" Bill said angrily. "Why are we all here? It's like we're under arrest, but we didn't do anything!"

Realizing words alone would not get through, Naomi stood and walked into his path. He stopped directly in front of her, trembling with suppressed anger. "Bill," she said softly, "I need you to sit down."

His eyes widened with hurt. "You did this, didn't you?" he asked. He sounded as if he were on the verge of tears at the betrayal. "You're my doctor. How could you do this to us?"

"I'm not your doctor any more, Bill," Naomi said. She managed to keep her eyes dry, but couldn't entirely keep the hurt out of her voice. "I've been put on medical leave. I'm not here to examine you. I'm in observation with you."

That shut Bill up like a slap. "You…you…are you all right?" He rushed forward and took her hand, and the moment their skin came in contact she felt a rush of warmth fill her whole body. It felt almost like a sexual rush, it was so intense.

It took effort just to keep standing. "No, Bill, I'm fine. I'm here because of this." She lifted his hand in hers, and he stared from the joined fingers to her eyes. "Whatever you've done to your friends, you've done to me," Naomi explained.

"But I'm not doing anything!"

"Bill, when you touched my hand it felt as if you were trying to heal me or make me better. It was the most intense feeling I've ever had." She dropped her voice into a whisper. "And part of me wants it to continue. And that's why I can't be your doctor any more. Whether you meant to do it or I did, we cannot function as a doctor and patient any more. Now, will you please come and sit down?"

She continued to hold his hand, and he let her guide him to the small bistro table in the corner near the window.

"What…what happens now?" he asked. "Are they to cut me up or something?"

"Cut you…Bill, this is Starfleet. We don't cut people up. But they need to understand what is happening to make sure it doesn't present a risk to anyone else. Once they've determined there is no public safety hazard, everyone will be let go."

"And what about you?"

"That…I'm not too sure on," Naomi said. "You can imagine how this looks to my superiors."

She was still holding his hand. She knew they were under observation and she knew that she should let go, but for the life of her, at that moment she was seriously considering throwing her career entirely away just to keep that warmth a little longer.

"I'm sorry," Bill said. "I never meant to hurt anyone."

"And we're not sure you did, Bill," Naomi said. "That's what we're going to try and find out. The _Lauterbur_ is due in Space Dock within the hour. Doctor Bashir has redirected it because of what is happening. We're going to do a thorough scan, not just of you, but of me and your four friends."

"Will it hurt?"

"The resonance frequency is so high humans can't detect it all. You won't feel a thing."

"Will you be there?"

Naomi nodded. "I will."

Bill bowed his head, and then rested it against the table. "Nothing has felt right since I woke up," he said from that position. "Nothing. The city looks wrong. The food tastes wrong. The air smells wrong. The only thing that has felt right since I woke up was Susan, Diana, Mary and Kathleen." He finally looked up and his eyes were red. "And you. Please don't let them take you all away from me. I don't know how I'll survive without you."

Naomi swallowed past a lump in her throat. The grief and fear that welled up within her was stronger than even she could understand. A small part of her wondered if some of it was coming from Bill himself. "I can't promise anything, Bill," she finally managed to say. "But I'll try to stay with you as long as they'll let me."

* * *

Deanna and Julian faced a room of very angry parents. The Starfleet Judge Advocate General was not very happy with them either, nor was the attorney the Chamberlains brought. Father Mendoza, fortunately, was not angry as he gently patted Carey Boxing's hand.

It was days like this when Bashir regretted taking the post of Chief Medical Officer. "Your children are not under arrest, they are under observation for a potential health risk, and you are being kept separate from them for your safety as well as theirs," he explained again.

"It's that boy who is the health risk!" Commander Dunningham snapped. "Why should our daughters be held in isolation when it's all his fault?"

"If this is a pathologically induced condition," Deanna said with forced patience, "then it doesn't matter if it originated with Bill or not."

"Then why don't you have us in isolation as well?" Jennifer Chamberlain asked.

"Well, that is why we are all here," Bashir said. "We would like your permission to perform a deep-tissue resonance scan on all of you."

The attorney for the Chamberlains almost fell out of her seat. "You what? That is a very invasive scan and a violation of basic civil rights."

"Admiral Bashir is making a request only," the JAG representative said quickly. "We will of course honor any refusals. We simply wish to rule out any further contamination."

"How can a disease do to anyone what happened to my Diana?" Carey asked. "She was flying off the bed! Not just bouncing—something was lifting her off! And she made a lamp fly across the room without touching it!"

"There are records of outside influences causing psychokinetic abilities," Deanna explained. "If something is affecting her mind, it could very well have that effect."

"And she spoke in someone else's voice!" Carey almost wailed.

"And that's why we're here," Bashir said. Carey Boxing's fear seemed to have mollified the Dunningham's and Caraough's, whose own daughters had not gone through the nightmares before. "We want to understand exactly what is happening, and what we can do to help make it better. But we cannot do it, legally or morally, without your cooperation."

"Will Katherine experience these…nightmares?"

"We believe there is a high probability," Deanna said. "And for Mary as well."

"Why?" Mary's mother asked.

"We aren't sure," Bashir said, "but they do share some interesting characteristics. Mr. and Mrs. Chamberlain, your daughter already underwent a deep-rez scan at the behest of your normal medical provider. The scan could only penetrate two millimeters. Diana had the same result. So did Bill Hogs. And this morning, we ran the test on one of our people who also appears to have been affected and had the same result."

"What does that mean?" Dunningham demanded.

Julian fought an urge to sight. "It means that Bill, Susan, Diana, and likely Katherine and Mary, are all generating an energy field of some kind that interferes with the scan. We simply haven't been able to get a look inside to see what is happening. I have ordered the return of the USS _Lauterbur_, which has the strongest resonance imager in the Federation. With your permission, we wish to transfer all six of them to the ship for a scan."

"You're not taking our daughter anywhere without us," Jennifer snarled.

"Nor would we expect to," Deanna said quickly. "You will all have to come."

"I want this boy kept away from my daughter," Dunningham declared.

"That might be difficult," Bashir said. "We are going to have to take them by shuttle."

"Shuttle?" Dunningham said. "Why?"

"The energy field they are generating prevents transport locks," Bashir said.

"Will they be in pain?" Elena Caraough asked. "Is this boy hurting them?"

"Just the opposite," Deanna assured them. "I've spoken with Susan and Diana. And one of my own staff physicians who was affected. They are describing intense feelings of affection and protectiveness for Bill. Physical contact has a very strong impact on them."

"He's brainwashing them into sex slaves," Dunningham declared indignantly.

"Dear, I don't think that's likely," her husband said meekly.

"Bill has not shown anything but graciousness to the girls," Deanna said. "I've spoken with the Director of Hope's Point and his teachers. We've even reviewed school security logs. The most contact they've had is hand holding."

The door behind them opened, and Naomi Wildman walked in. "Hello," she said with a brave smile.

Deanna stood. "Thank you for coming. This is Doctor Naomi Wildman. She is the youngest human psychiatrist to ever work for Starfleet Medical. Some of you might recognize her name as being the first UFP child born in the Delta Quadrant. She was Bill's attending when he first arrived."

"You're the one they're talking about," Carey said. "I can see it in your eyes."

Naomi's smile faltered a little under the glares of the others, but she nodded. "I am. Dr. Riker asked me to come and talk to you about what your daughters and I are experiencing. Because of my training, I might be able to explain it a little better."

"But you're affected."

"Yes."

"Please have a seat, Naomi," Bashir offered.

The young doctor collapsed. "Sorry, just got through talking with Bill. He's on the verge of tears thinking he might have hurt anyone."

"I bet," Dunningham snarled.

"No, you really have no idea," Naomi said, suddenly angry at the woman. "None of you can. I'm not even sure I can explain it."

"Why don't you start at the beginning," Deanna suggested.

So Naomi explained Bill's arrival and unknown origins. His last name was picked based on where he was found. She described their tests and the mystery of his skin and family. She then talked about her protective feelings for him and her efforts to curtail those feelings. Then she came to their first overt contact at Hope's Point.

"He hugged me," she said simply. "It…it was hard to describe. It was a simple hug, and yet the feelings it produced were beyond anything I had ever felt. There was this…this warmth that flooded me. It was the single most comfortable feeling I've ever experienced, and I truly did not want it to stop. But of course I was his doctor, and so the hug ended and we went about our business. But that night and in many of the nights thereafter, I started experiencing incredibly erotic dreams. This was highly unusual for me. I am young, but I don't have a lot of experience in romance because of my background. The dreams became so intense that…well, let's just say they were mind blowing. I then started having nightmares. I can't really tell you any details—the specific memories disappear almost the moment I open my eyes. I can tell you there are the sounds of screams and pain. Anger, hatred. But mostly pain. And a voice whispering something that I just can't quite understand.

"It was during the second week that I noticed objects around my apartment were broken. So I put a monitor in my room, and showed Dr. Riker the next day. I experienced exactly what Diana and Susan did, including the speaking in a different voice and the psychokinesis. I've been in voluntary isolation since then. But I don't think it's necessary. I don't think there will be any others."

"Why is that?" Carey said.

"From the moment he met up with Susan in the school, Bill said there was something specific about your daughters that felt different to him. That made him feel comfortable. The thought of losing that comfort is wrecking him. He early on included me in that same group, but I did my best to ignore that. But the truth is, there was something about the five of us that is different from the rest of you. And that is why we need to do the deep-rez scan on the _Lauterbur_ and find out."

The adults sat around staring at her for the longest time. Finally, Susan's mother Jennifer said very softly, "Susan said she is in love with this boy."

"I've never really been in love," Naomi admitted. "But not having experienced it, I have to admit that's what it feels like. I have a compulsion to be with him, especially right now. I can feel him. Even as we speak I can feel his worry and anguish. He can't stand the thought of being without us. And I want to go and hold him."

"And more?" Dunningham sneered.

"And more," Naomi confirmed quietly. "Even if it means my career. I think I really do love him."

"Will you help us try to figure out what is happening?" Bashir asked the parents in the silence that followed.

* * *

The shuttle settled down onto the pad of Starfleet Medical with a hum and a rush of wind. Dr. St'alar walked out first with Susan and her parents. When they were in the shuttle, Deanna accompanied Mary and her parents. Julian personally escorted an angry Katherine and her parents, plus Carey Boxing and Father Mendoza, who as before was coming for Carey's benefit. The woman looked like she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Finally, the door opened and Naomi led Bill out onto the pad by his hand. Behind them came two Starfleet security officers.

The moment Bill stepped onto the shuttle, Susan flew from her seat and into his arms. Diana was only a moment behind.

"Katherine Elizabeth Dunningham, you sit down this instance!" Marilyn Dunningham said. Katherine ignored her and joined the group hug.

Mary looked at her parents and smiled. "I have to," she whispered to her mother before she too joined them.

"Julian, look!" Deanna whispered.

Julian could see it. The air around the five—no six, he realized, since Naomi was a part of it too—the air above them shimmered with some form of energy. Finally they broke up enough to sit down in a row, with Bill in the middle. Every girl, even Naomi, had a hand on his back as if both drawing strength from him and giving it in return.

The boy's eyes were misty as he looked around the shuttle. "I'm sorry for this," he said in a thick voice. "I would never hurt them. I couldn't hurt them ever."

"You are hurting them," Marilyn Dunningham said as the shuttle lifted off.

"Mother, shut up!" Katherine yelled. Suddenly the shuttle rocked. When the rocking finished, Marilyn Dunningham's hair was a bright, metallic shade of green.

"What is going on back there?" the pilot said over the speakers. "We lost power for a moment!"

Katherine was staring wide-eyed at her terrified mother. "Did I do that?" she whispered.

"I know I didn't," Mary said. "I wouldn't give that color to my worst enemy."

"Turn it back!" Marilyn shrieked.

"I don't even know how I did it in the first place!" Katherine said.

"Please, we need to calm down," Bashir almost yelled over the sudden din. "Mrs. Dunningham, aside from the unfortunate color of your hair, are you harmed?"

"What? No!"

"Then madam, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to deal with it until we get back to the surface. Space is not the place to have arguments that can evidently drain the power from a shuttlecraft."

The clouds outside were already starting to thin as they reached the upper atmosphere. Suddenly they were in space. Bill leaned forward. "Wow, I can move! Aren't things supposed to be floating around?"

"Are you an idiot?" Marilyn said, still obviously angry. "Why would things be floating around?"

Everyone bristled. Suddenly Marilyn's hair was simply gone. The shuttle lost power once more, and Marilyn shrieked.

"Stop it, now!" Bashir shouted. "That is enough. Commander Dunningham, if you cannot control your tongue you will remain on this shuttle. You are now on a Federation shuttle approaching a Federation starship and you will purport yourself accordingly."

The woman glared sullenly even as she rubbed her smooth, shiny head.

Bill looked out the window and gasped. "Merlin's beard!" he said. "What is that?"

He was virtually leaning over Diana's lap and even with Naomi. The doctor smiled fondly at him as she moved a strand of his unruly hair back over his ear. "That's Space Dock, Bill. It's where Starships are serviced and restocked. It's the largest artificial satellite around the planet and one of the largest space stations ever constructed. The _Lauterbur_ is inside it."

Bill settled back in his seat. "This is so strange," he whispered.

"You have no idea," Naomi agreed.

* * *

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**Author's Responses**

First off, thanks to dajohu; prudiisten; cruailsama; catwriter; Isis the Sphinx; SomeGuyFawkes; Pointer3109; JEKrug01; Crys; dragonlord; Roosterman71; Debbster21; Bobboky; Matt; Wonderbee31; Tilius; Manus Dei; Firemane; and Fangirl (never had one of those before. Don't tell my wife). I appreciate your reviews and comments, especially considering the issues with the review function when I posted this chapter.

Q: You said it was going to be drastically different in content, but so far it doesn't seem to different.

A: My exact words were "both tone and content". More tone than anything. FF was really a crack!fic sex romp with a story. This is a story, without so much the sex. You're not going to see orgies in this. However, there will be no reborn dark lord. That's what I meant by content. This is a story of discovery, both of Harry's past and the magical world. This isn't an action-driven fic. There is some, but it doesn't drive the story. Just FY

Q: So will Sisko and the other Bajoran gods turn up?

A: Sorry, no Sisko, nor any Wormhole aliens.

Q: Is their a defineable antagonist?

A: While I said earlier that this is not an action driven story, there is a defineable antagonist a little later in the story. While it is related to his past, it is the past within the context of the story, not FF or HP canon.

Q: I remember enough ST history to know that if you were alive during one of the more violent episodes of it, something bad happened to you.

A: Shhhhh! Keep it a secret for now, okay? ;)

Lots of interesting speculation on who Grams was, and what's going to happen soon. Like I said, this was never intended as an action-oriented story. However, much of the action is really going to be what happened to get us where we are now. So bear with me. Things are happening soon!


	10. The Lauterbur

Author's Responses at the end:

* * *

**Chapter Ten: The **_**Lauterbur**_

"Welcome aboard the USS _Lauterbur_. I am Captain Alyssa Ogawa."

Deanna smiled brilliantly as she stepped down the ramp. "Why, yes you are," she said with a laugh.

"Deanna!" Alyssa said. "I was hoping you would come up. How are you?"

"Busy," Deanna said. She introduced the captain to everyone, though of course Alyssa knew Admiral Bashir as he was her ultimate commanding officer.

"We have the scanner ready," Ogawa said as she led them through the halls of the starship. She immediately fell into the role of a captain proud of her ship. To the civilians, she said, "The USS _Lauterbur_ is an _Olympic_-class hospital ship with the most advanced medical facilities in the galaxy—better even than that of Starfleet Command."

"Why is that?" Susan Chamberlain asked.

"A good question," Ogawa said. "The truth is that there is greater need for mobile facilities on the edge of Federation space. More importantly, this is a side of the Federation we want our potential allies to see. The _Lauterbur_ isn't just a hospital ship. We are ambassadors."

"Well said," Bashir said with an appreciative nod.

"I had good teachers," Ogawa agreed. "And here we are."

The deep-tissue resonance scanner was comprised of a comfortable looking cot in the middle of a white-walled room. From the domed ceiling of the room hung a large inverted mushroom with a red light at the center of the inverted dome.

Diana giggled. As if sensing her thoughts, Katherine, Susan and Mary started giggling too. Bill turned red and struggled not to.

"Is there something wrong?" Captain Ogawa said. She couldn't help the defensive tone. These children were laughing at her ship.

"The scanner's extra power conversion coils give it a rather phallic appearance," Naomi managed to say with an almost straight face.

Ogawa blinked and looked at the scanner, then back at the girls.

"This isn't my fault this time," Bill said.

Diana burst out laughing. "Will you be gentle with me?" she asked the captain.

Whatever control the girls had ceased right there. Bill almost spat he laughed so hard, and the others were almost on the floor. "One moment they're on the verge of tears, now their laughing like children," Carey Boxing noted in confusion.

"We're happy," Naomi explained. Her cheeks were flushed with humor. "Being together makes us happy."

"Well, who wants to go first?" Bashir asked.

"It should be me," Bill said, suddenly serious.

"I agree," Deanna said. Ogawa nodded to one of her technicians who led Bill into the room. The others gathered around the observation window as Bill lay down.

"Bill," Captain Ogawa said, "you can breathe regularly. You can even move if you need too. This will only take a minute."

"Be gentle, it's my first time," Bill called back.

Diana clung to the laughing Susan, laughing so hard herself she could barely breathe.

"I'm never going to be able to get that image out of my mind now," Ogawa said with a shake of her head. "All right, Lieutenant, let's begin the scan."

There was nothing visible, of course. Just a faint hum. But the moment it began all laughter ended. The silence was almost eerie, sufficient enough for Ogawa to look back and see five very serious young women.

"It hurts," Diana whispered. "It's hurting him."

"Nonsense," Ogawa said. She turned to the scanner. The lieutenant said, "Actually, ma'am, his brainwave activity does indicate he is experiencing pain."

Out in the room Bill sat stiffly. He was shaking visibly to everyone there and his teeth were gritted. As the scan worked its way up his body his trembling got worse. In the observation room, Diana sniffed. "Please stop it," she whispered. "It's hurting him!"

"It really is," Naomi said. "He's in pain."

In the room, they could hear a low moan of agony, but still Bill didn't move. Finally the scan concluded. Bill sat up and almost fell off the table, gasping in pain. Before anyone could say or do anything, all five women were in the room with him.

"Captain," Bashir said, "continue normal health sign scans, please. Put the cortical scans on display."

"Yes, Admiral," Ogawa said.

"What are we looking at?" Peter Chamberlain asked.

"Bill's mind," Bashir said. "And…there, do you see it?"

"The pain receptors have…it's like they've healed him," Ogawa said.

They all looked out where Bill was kneeling on the floor with five hands on his back, and five beautiful young women kneeling around him in concern. Finally, he stood up, flushed, and walked with them back to the observation room.

"You're not doing that to anyone else without something for the pain," he said. "It felt like you were stabbing me with a million foot-long needles."

"I'll go second," Naomi said. "We can use me as a control subject for the pain."

Bill looked at Ogawa. "Can I be in the room with her?"

"Well, I suppose so. It won't affect the imager at all."

"What do you want to do?" Naomi said.

"I want to hold your hand," he said.

Ogawa gave Naomi a hypo of general analgesic and she and Bill walked out into the room. She climbed onto the low cot and he knelt by her side. "Don't hold me at first," Naomi said. "I need to feel it for myself."

He nodded but otherwise stayed where he was.

The scan started, and immediately Naomi stiffened. "Wow!" she said, breathing hard and fast. "This really hurts!"

"Naomi," Deanna said from the control room. "You understand you shouldn't feel a thing?"

"Shouldn't maybe, but I am," Naomi barked back. "Oh God, this hurts!" The words turned into a cry of agony. "Bill!"

He took her hand, and immediately she settled back down.

"Naomi, what's happening?" Deanna asked.

"Bill's taking the pain away," Naomi sighed. "That warmth I told you about when we touch—it's healing me. There's still pain, but it's bearable now. Just please, Bill, don't let go."

"I'd die first," he vowed with the typical drama of a teenager.

After her scan, Susan as the next oldest volunteered. As she climbed on, she said, "I don't need to feel any pain for myself, so please don't let go."

"I won't," Bill promised. He held her hand with both of his as the scan progressed. She sat up afterward with a grimace. "Still wasn't fun. I can't imagine what that would have been like without you."

Katherine came next, then Mary. Diana was the final one. She approached the table timidly. Bill took her hand and guided her the last steps. "Will you kiss me when we're done?" she asked.

In the observation room, Mrs. Boxing stiffened.

"If that's what you need," Bill told her. "I would do anything for any of you."

"That's what I'll need," she said. "I really don't like pain."

The scan started. Diana stiffened and mewed a bit. "Bill, it still hurts," she said.

He closed his eyes, and they could almost see a shimmer around their combined hands. In the observation room, the scanner actually blinked as the power dimmed for a split second. Finally, though, they were able to finish the scans.

When it was over, Diana gasped. Bill leaned over and kissed her.

What happened next shocked everyone. The scanner sparked overhead. The lights dimmed to emergency levels, and Mary, Katherine, Susan and even Naomi moaned a little as if in pain.

The moment their lips parted, the lights came back on. Diana was staring back up at Bill with an expression of wonder and adoration. "I love you," she said aloud. "Please don't ever leave me."

Carey Boxing was weeping while Father Mendoza patted her back.

Bill smiled down at her, caressed her cheek, and said, "I won't. Not while I breathe. I love you, too."

Diana actually cried as she sat up and leaned into him. He stood enough to lift her, then sat back down on the cot with her on his lap. His green eyes seemed oddly brilliant, as if backlit, as he looked through the observation window. "I won't let them take you away," he said again. "Not any of you."

* * *

"Beverly!" Deanna said. "Thank you so much for coming!"

"How could I resist an invitation from my dearest friend?" Beverly said. She held Deanna out at arm's length. "You look fabulous. Will must be taking good care of you."

"He is," Deanna said. "And I see the vineyard has been good for you. I've never seen you looking so tan."

Beverly Picard gave a disarming smile. "I'd say I'm doing all right for an old lady. So, where is Julian? I haven't seen him since I promoted him."

Julian Bashir stepped out of the kitchenette of the conference room and walked directly to Beverly. "Tea. Darjeeling, not that horrid stuff Jean-Luc makes you drink. How a Frenchman could like Earl Gray tea and Shakespeare I'll never know."

Beverly laughed and put an arm around the CMO's shoulders. "It's good to see you again, Julian. Who else will be joining us today?"

"This is Dr. St'alar," Deanna said. "I believe you've met."

"In fact I joined Starfleet Medical while Dr. Picard was Chief Medical Officer," St'alar said. "It is agreeable to see you again, Doctor."

"Thank you, St'alar, it is good to see you as well. And is Janeway's protégé here as well?"

Bashir and Deanna shared a look. "She's actually a subject of our study, Beverly. But she will be here. If nothing else, she adds a unique insight to the situation."

The door of the conference room slid open and Naomi walked. Her eyes widened immediately. "Doctor Crusher! Er, I mean, Picard! I didn't know you were coming!"

The young psychiatrist gave the older doctor a brief hug. She leaned back and smiled up. "I'm afraid I'm in a bit of trouble."

"Oh, and why's that?"

The two sounded like a granddaughter and grandmother. Age wise, they could have been, and Deanna knew that Beverly helped Admiral Janeway's young foster daughter a great deal during her Medical Academy days.

"I think I fell in love with a patient," she said.

"It sometimes happens; it's how we deal with it that matters."

"I think he may have shifted my DNA, given me a paracortex and caused my menstrual cycle to shift," Naomi added.

Beverly blinked, and then looked to Deanna.

"That's why we wanted you in as a consultant," Deanna said. "I know you only do occasional consulting now, but during your tenure as a starship CMO and then the Starfleet Chief Medical Officer, you've gathered a significant amount of experience. And frankly we're baffled."

They settled down, darkened the room and started pulling up the results from the deep-rez scan. Beverly immediately leaned forward. "This first one is your initial subject? Hogs?"

"Yes."

Beverly slipped on a pair of reading glasses, an anachronism she had adopted after living with her husband for the past few years on the Picard estate. She accessed the scan through the interface on the conference table top and zoomed in to his intestine. "That's interesting. No appendix."

"The vasculature and muscle walls of the cecum would indicate he never had one," St'alar noted.

"I see," Beverly said.

"Look at the coccyx," Bashir suggested.

Beverly did so, and stared. "All Terran mammals have tail bones."

"He does, but they are miniscule," St'alar said. She pointed to tiny, vestigial bones.

"He also has no third molars," Bashir said. "The teeth are in outstanding shape, with almost no wear at all. This is consistent with our initial findings. It appears that he has only existed in his current body for about six weeks."

"Zoom in on his eyes," St'alar said.

"They are beautiful," Naomi breathed.

"Yes they are," Beverly noted. "What…" She zoomed in again. "Is he missing the _plica semlunaris_?"

Bashir nodded. "Although humans do not have a nictitating membrane such as Vulcans, we do have a vestigial remnant. All of us, except for Bill and his friends."

Continuing with the review of the scan, Beverly arrived at Bill's brain.

The three medical professionals stared for a very long time before Beverly said, "I do believe that is the largest paracortex I have seen in a humanoid lifeform."

"So you agree it is a paracortex?" Bashir said.

"It has to be. Its morphology is too similar to the paracortices of Vulcans and Betazoids, and it is right where you would expect it in the limbic system. In fact, I would think I was looking at the brain of a very powerful Betazoid if not for the very human body. No, correct that. That almost looks like the paracortex of one of Janeway's Ocampa."

Beverly leaned back. "At first glance, I would guess that this Bill Hogs is the product of an artificially gestated genetic engineering experiment. I'm sure you've heard of Darwin Station? Some of their more advanced subjects had minds similar to this. Not to this extent, mind you, but there are definite similarities."

"This next scan is mine, Doctor," Naomi said.

The new scan appeared. "Remind me, sweetheart," Beverly said, looking at Naomi over the rim of her glasses, "when they were helping your parents conceive they drew primarily on your mother for your physical genetics, right?"

"That's right."

Beverly nodded and then started looking at the scan. She then turned and looked back at Naomi. "May I?"

Naomi nodded and Beverly removed her glasses and leaned over, looking into Naomi's eye. "I'll be damned," she whispered. "Did you know about your appendix?"

"The Doctor assumed the absence was due to my mixed heritage."

"Actually, that's a reasonable assumption," Beverly said. "You're not a rated psionic, are you?"

"Low level empathy only. Until I met Bill."

"And now?"

"I can feel when walks into a room," Naomi breathed. "I have a compass in my body and Bill is my north. I almost always know where he is. These scans hurt, Beverly. I know they weren't supposed to, but they hurt. He held my hand and immediately dulled the pain. I'm beginning to think the EM field we're all generating was affected by the resonance pulses."

Beverly put her glasses back on and went through the rest of the scans, finding the same on each. "This is too bizarre. And none of these supposed symptoms appeared before they met this boy?"

"That's correct," Beverly said. She pulled up a video and Beverly watched as Katherine experienced her first nightmare while under observation. When it was over, the elder doctor was visible shaken. "God. And that's happened to you?"

"Yes," Naomi said. "I only remember it being a bad nightmare. But…" She looked down as if gathering herself. "I know that if I stay with Bill, I won't have the dream."

"How do you know?"

"I can't tell you. It's like a gut instinct, only an instinct that is absolutely certain."

"And by stay with him you mean…?"

Naomi looked around the table and sank in on herself. "Training or not, this is really embarrassing."

"We're trying to help," Beverly said.

Naomi looked across the table at St'alar. "I think it's almost like your Pon'farr. Ever since he kissed Diana on the _Lauterbur_ I have this almost irresistible compulsion to kiss him. To… "

"You wish to have relations with him?" St'alar asked with a raised brow.

"I want to shag him half-way to October," Naomi admitted. "And not just me. I checked and last night Diana Boxing cried herself to sleep by her mother's side because Medical wouldn't let her sleep with Bill. Her poor mother is a devout Catholic and is beside herself. The other girls are just as affected."

"All five of you?" Beverly said. "Doesn't that make you the least bit jealous?"

"That's just it," Naomi said. "There is no jealously. When he kissed Diana, I didn't want to be Diana, I wanted to be _with_ Diana kissing him too. When we hugged together on the shuttle, it honestly felt like we were part of a single family. I've never felt like I belonged anywhere more than like I belonged with them. I don't even know these girls and yet I honestly think I love them all."

"Perhaps is some type of telepathic suggestion on the part of the boy?" St'alar said.

"That is possible," Beverly said. "We've seen it before. Deanna, you've had it happen to you before."

"That's true."

"What's truly frustrating is that we know absolutely nothing about the young man," Bashir said.

"We know that he liked to eat and drink food from the twentieth century," Naomi pointed out. "We know he remembers living in a town that was destroyed during World War Three. We know that he is good reader and writer, albeit in pre-Standard, and is proficient in a very complex form of mathematics, but knows very little about the natural sciences and recent history. He lived with an abusive aunt and uncle, and had a cousin.

"I know that when I am with him, I feel safe. Even if he is manipulating me, doctors, I'm not sure I would object. In my twenty years, I have never been as happy as I am when I am with him."

* * *

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**Author's Responses:**

Chapter nine had a great turn out for reviews. So without any further ado, I would like to thank the following people for their reviews and comments:

Sharnorasian Empire; cruailsama; Sayle; Obsidius; Wonderbee31; menright6; prudiisten; GinaStar; gaul1; Sir Trib The Bold; dragonlord; Vyrexuviel; hemotem; dajohu; AISCHILOS; kb0; impatientuser; CatWriter; starboy454; impgonnadie; Midoriryu; Bobboky; Pointer3109; SomeGuyFawkes; Gogolu; JEKrug01; Crys; Roosterman71; GryffindorDragon; Debbster21; MrMr; immortal7; arturus; Isis the Sphinx; TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel; Manus Dei; FF-loverHP1; Tilius and prometheus-1984.

I really appreciate all the reviews and comments. Thank you so much!

Now, for everyone's least favorite part: 

**Questions and Answers**

Q: Naomi was born in th Delta quadrant, not the Gamma.

A: Thanks to all those who caught this. I have corrected it.

Q: I do hope that Harry gets his memory back at some point, otherwise it's just going to be Harry in name...

A: Harry regains his memory in Chapter 15.

Q: From what you posted so far its seems to be heading full steam down the tracks to another sex/orgy crack fic.

A: There is, as far as I can remember, only one real sex scene in this fic, and it is not an orgy. That's not what this fic is about. Sorry to disappoint, but that's why all the warnings that it's a different type of story.

Q: I mean merely at the mention of Merlin, the others should have slowly an idea who he is or what time-line he comes

A: I think that would be a huge, almost incomprehensible leap in logic for Federation personnel to assume from Harry's use of the name Merlin as an expletive that he is the last member of a vanished group of magical people no one ever heard of. You know he is, and I know he is, but without more information there is no way they could know it. And keep in mind that Starfleet always pursues scientific answers. Magic would be the last possible answer after all other answers were exhausted, and even then they would only phrase it in technical terms.

Q: Overall all, I like what you did here with 1 exception, and that with Commander Dunningham...

A: There is a reason why Dunningham is not on active duty at the moment. She is a veteran of the Founders War and suffered both physical and mental wounds before Katherine's birth. The psychological trauma has been resurfacing on and off through her career as PTS, leading to her being placed on extended leave at this time. This is not an excuse for her, it is simply the reason. That said, I like some things to be left out. A story doesn't necessary have to explain the motivations of every character. Sometimes it's fun just to have a person be nasty because that's how they are.

Q: Why is Harry acting like a spoiled, 13 year-old girl?

A: He's not. He's acting like a confused 17 year old boy.

Q: Still not completely clear why girl number five was pulled into it.

A: This is answered as a part of the plot. Don't want to give too much away.

Q: But I honestly find myself confusing the girls a bit. I keep trying to tie them to their ancient counterpart, and not getting it. Part of me wishes that they didn't have different names.

A: Please don't try. These are five original characters with their own personalities and histories. These are not the original wives.

I know the answers don't always clear things up, but I try to make a point of answering those I can. I hope everyone continues to read and enjoy.


	11. Auntie Kate

Author's Responses at the end:

Author's Warning: This chapter is the reason for the M rating as there is some sex.

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Auntie Kate **

"I can't believe you're making me ask an admiral for permission to have sex," Naomi growled.

Deanna smiled with genuine regret. "Not just an admiral, Naomi, your foster mother. And more importantly, the Vice Admiral who ultimately oversees Starfleet Medical. You are both subjects under study, and it is highly unorthodox to allow you to be with another subject."

On the other side of the young psychiatrist, Beverly smiled. "If nothing else, it'll be an interesting conversation."

"You're only saying that because she can't do anything to you," Naomi accused.

"Of course." Beverly smiled again. "And Naomi, please don't think of it as asking permission. We've effectively ruled out pathology. While we might have to keep Bill in isolation for a bit longer, you and the others are free to go any time. And as a consenting adult, you can do anything you want."

"After Bill is eighteen, of course," Deanna added.

"Well, there is that complication," Beverly said.

They arrived at Starfleet Command and stepped off the dedicated tram. They checked in, Beverly's guest identification was stamped, and an adjunct guided them to a lift that took them to the top of the tower.

They found Deanna's husband in the Vice Admiral's waiting room charming the secretary.

"Will Riker!" Beverly said. "Come give me a hug, you!"

"It's great to see you, Beverly," Will said. "How is Jean-Luc?"

"Happily drinking wine, reading and talking politics with the rest of Parliament in Geneva. Are you here for moral support or officially?"

"Pick one," he said with a broad smile. He leaned down and gave his wife a quick peck. To Naomi, he said, "She's been a bit puckish today. The Cardassian envoy has been pushing for more aid again."

The nearby secretary stood. "Admiral, doctors, the Admiral will see you now."

Vice Admiral Kathryn Janeway sat behind a large desk cluttered with ten PADDs and several sheets of printed hardcopy. One wall in her spacious office had an astrometrics display of Sector 001 and the surrounding core worlds of the Federation. Will could see several dots moving across the field at warp speed and knew the map was receiving real-time telemetry from the many listening posts the Federation maintained since the war.

"Will," Katheryn said without looking up, "are you here for moral support or officially?"

"Whichever you need."

Janeway snorted and finally looked up. Her eyes ignored everyone else as she latched onto Naomi. "I admit I'm a little disappointed in you, Doctor Wildman."

Naomi visible wilted.

"Kathryn, don't be a bitch."

The whole room fell absolutely quiet as all eyes turned to Beverly, who continued in a perfectly normal conversational tone and a slightly chastising smile. "The girl has obviously experienced a life-altering event. When you see the nightmares she is experiencing, you might just begin to understand. There is no reason for you to be cruel."

"Hello to you too, Beverly," Janeway said coolly. "Why are you here again?"

"Consulting," Beverly said. "And because Naomi is my friend."

"I could have you thrown out."

"And Jean-Luc could have a nice lunch with Fleet Admiral Strein to talk about that," Beverly came right back. "But I'm not here to fight with you. I'm here because someone I care for needs help."

"Fine," Kathryn said abruptly. She walked to a spacious table in a corner of the office and the others sat as well. "So, what are we going to talk about?"

"I'm not entirely human," Naomi said.

Kathryn pointedly looked at the horns on her head. "I was there when you were born. I suspected there might be a little more than human in you."

Beverly sighed. "You only get sarcastic with people you love," she said. "You can show compassion for absolute strangers who've tried to kill you, but Lord help anyone you actually have feelings for. Explains the two divorces. What Naomi is trying to tell you is that she, four other young women, and a young man all share a 1.15% genetic deviation from human norm. The deviation is identical in all six of them, and sufficient to actually classify them as possibly another species if we can prove it is not some form of mutation."

Kathryn was too much the scientist to completely dismiss THAT news. "Okay, you have my attention."

"We all have a paracortex," Naomi said.

"Well, I knew about yours," Kathryn said, though not as unkindly as before. "We detected it during your birth. The Doctor suspected it was a dormant aspect of your Ktarian heritage, since female Ktarians do have a small paracortex."

"Well, at least it rules out spontaneous development," Beverly said with a sigh. "We were worried that they developed their paracortexes only after interacting with Bill."

"And why would you suspect that?"

They explained Bill's mysterious origins and the strange link he had with all five young women. They then showed the admiral some of the footage of the nightmares and the deep-rez scan results. By the end of the conversation, Janeway's expression was at once fascinated and appalled. "I hope you've maintained that isolation."

"That's why we're here," Deanna said.

"I love him. I want to sleep with him," Naomi blurted out.

"Absolutely not!"

Beverly leaned forward and rested her chin on the back of her hands. With the most serious of demeanors accompanied by her most pleasant smile, she said, "Why not?"

"You just described a hazardous being who is having an adverse affect on five people around him!"

"Why do you think it is adverse?"

"Are you playing devil's advocate with me, Beverly?" Janeway snapped.

"Oh yes," Beverly said with obvious relish. "Moreover, what do you think you can do to stop it? You cannot hold Bill indefinitely. He is a civilian, and for lack of any other identity he is a citizen of Earth. In fact, Starfleet's nominal guardianship over him is tenuous at best. He's old enough that not a court in the world would hesitate to declare him an adult, and after that you would have no choice but to release him. Naomi, if you were both released, would you try to sleep with him?"

"In an instant," Naomi said. She looked at the admiral. "Auntie, I really do love him. I'm not a blushing virgin. I am a licensed trained psychiatrist. I'm not blindly rushing in. And frankly at this point there is no reason to think sex would have an adverse reaction. But if we can couple under a controlled environment, we might just get an idea of what's going on."

"You're suggesting making love to this boy in front of your colleagues?"

Naomi blushed almost to her stomach. "No! Er, well, sort of. I am suggesting that we both wear cortical and blood sensors. No video, but some physiological data might give us an idea of just how this bond we seem to share works."

"Of course, Bill is seventeen as far as we know," Deanna added in a small voice.

"Well, of course he's a minor," Kathryn said, throwing her hands up in the air. "Why wouldn't my twenty-year-old foster daughter want to have sex with a minor that she was treating as her patient?"

"Damn it, Auntie, you're not always right!" Naomi shouted. She slammed her hand down on the conference table and it suddenly shattered into a dozen pieces, knocking everyone down.

They slowly picked themselves up. "I'm sorry," Naomi stammered. "That's happened to some of the other girls before, but not me."

"What was that?" Janeway demanded.

"Uncontrolled psychokinetic outbursts," Deanna explained. "As you saw in the file, this mostly occurs to them at night, but sometimes when they are angry enough it happens during the day."

"I'm going to do this," Naomi said in a slow, controlled voice. "I love you, Auntie Kate, for everything you've done for me. As much as Beverly has been like a grandmother, you've been like my mother, and I do love you. But I love Bill too. So much so it almost hurts. I need to be with him. I wanted to do it in a way that might help us understand what is happening, but I swear to you I will never put on a Starfleet uniform again if that's what it takes to be with him."

Kathryn Janeway straightened her uniform. "Then I don't see any reason to discuss this conversation. Dismissed."

Naomi held her chin up high, snapped off an Academy-sharp salute, turned and marched out of the office. "Yet another victim of that famous Janeway charm," Beverly said, still in that pleasant voice. "Good day, Kathryn. Thank you for your time."

"Get out!"

However, Beverly and the others were already walking out when she spoke. They found Naomi in the hall just outside the waiting room. Her eyes were closed and there was some moisture running in a trail down the side of her nose.

Beverly took the young woman in a hug and said, "That woman needs to get laid even more than you do, my dear!"

"Beverly!" Deanna said, aghast.

Beverly grinned. "I find as I get older, and don't have to work here anymore, that I can adopt a policy of honesty. It's actually quite refreshing. And frankly, she should never have been promoted so quickly. She made some very questionable decisions in the Delta quadrant that a more seasoned captain would never have made, which is why almost immediately after the last Romulan incursion, she was reassigned back at Starfleet Command. So, let's go get you ready, Naomi. I shall be Panderus to your Cressida."

"Who?" Naomi asked.

"Kids," Beverly said with a sad shake of her head.

* * *

Bill paced the room with anger and frustration. He could feel the girls, all of them. They seemed so close, but they kept the doors locked, and he suspected if he tried to break out bad things would happen.

The feeling of his kiss with Diana lingered on his lips even after two days. The feel of her as he held her in his lap. The warmth of her.

He realized he had come to a stop at the window and was staring out over the bay. Evening was falling. He couldn't see any stars, but he did see one impossibly large light in the sky that he now knew was space dock.

The memory of Diana's kiss was replaced by the agony of the scan.

Finally he walked back over to the couch and slumped down with his head in his hands. He knew there were literally thousands of infonet channels he could watch: dramas from every era, even some pre-war stuff. There were wonderful, intricate games he could play. There was even some erotica he could have looked at, since he was over seventeen as far as anyone knew.

He was thinking desperately erotic thoughts, but had no desire to see a man and Klingon woman grinding together singing Klingon opera. The stuff sounded awful, and Klingon women were very hairy.

The door opened and he looked up hopefully. "Naomi," he breathed in relief. He didn't even think about it—he was across the room in a flash and lifted her in a desperate hug. It surprised him that he was taller than she was now. He couldn't remember if that was true just a month ago.

She felt so small and fragile in his arms, so unlike the strong, intelligent woman he knew. Then he realized her arms were around him. She was hugging him back, just as he'd dreamed about almost from the first time he woke up with her nearby.

He looked down at her, and she looked up at him, and he saw something in her eyes that made his heart skip. Without a word, he leaned down until their lips met. The energy of the moment rushed through him in a flash. He lost strength in his knees and went down to the floor. She went with him, wrapping both arms around his neck as their tongues slid against each other.

Finally they parted for air. "Naomi," he breathed. "Is this real?"

"It's real," she said. She slowly pulled out two sets of cortical sensors. "The price of my being here. If we wear these…then I could stay, if you want me too."

He stared at her wide-eyed. "You would stay with me?"

"God help me, I would," she said. "I think I love you, Bill, just like the others."

"And I know I love you," Bill said. "When I woke up here and I saw you smiling at me, I fell in love. You are so beautiful." He reached up and traced the horns that ran in a line down her face. The contact was more sensual than anything her one and only ex-boyfriend ever did.

She kissed him again, this time with desperate urgency. Her hands sought the hem of his shirt and pulled. When his shirt was free, she worked off her own, followed quickly by her bra.

Bill stared in fascination at her breasts. "So beautiful," he breathed. He leaned down, drawn like a bee to nectar, and suckled her mounds even as his hands caressed her back. They ran down her spine, which in conjunction with his tongue running circles around her nipples, resulted in waves of gooseflesh running her body. His hands continued down, though, below the line of her slacks and panties, until his fingers kneaded the flesh of her buttocks.

The hands curved around her hip and slid her slacks down entirely. "I need you," he whispered. "I need to love you."

"I need you to love me," she answered. She let her own hands travel down the strong, defined lines of his chest to his slacks. They came off so easily, until freeing his rock-hard manhood, which bounced up in a ready salute.

She stood and started to motion for him to do so, but he had other ideas. Strong hands grabbed her hips and he pulled her forward, burying his face in her sex. She felt his tongue and couldn't help the moan that escaped her lips. "Oh God, Bill," she said as the first orgasm—her very first actual orgasm—rocked her entire body. It left her stunned and even a little surprised. Her ex-boyfriend had done this as well, but never with such passion. Never with such results.

Finally he stood, pausing at the inner curve of her hip to kiss her zealously, before working his way back to her breasts and finally to her face. She could smell and taste her own sex on his lips as he kissed her. He literally lifted her off her feet and walked her over to the bed.

"You act like you know what you're doing," she managed to breath.

"I do," he said. "My head may not remember, but my heart and my body do." He laid her on the bed and once again let his tongue trace a swath of destruction over her body, until once again she felt him kissing her inner labia and flicking his tongue within her. Once again the heat and pressure came. Every muscle tensed as the orgasm washed over her. "Bill," she begged. "Please make love to me."

He moved back up, rubbing his chest and stomach against her sex as he did so, until she could feel his manhood rubbing against her. Too desperate to wait, she reached down and guided him into her. He slid in slowly, filling her more than she could have imagined. It was never like this with her ex.

Around them, the lights blinked and then faded away. She didn't care. She pulled his head down to her neck as he developed a rhythm. She felt their combined heat sweeping over her. "Yes," she said again and again. "Yes, yes, yes!"

It was over too soon, and yet when she checked her old mechanical watch, they had been making love for more than half an hour. He melted into her, rolling on his side while somehow keeping her skin to skin.

His whole body glistened with sweat, and the smell of his musk was overpowering and stunning. Without opening his eyes, he smiled and said, "I do love you, Naomi Wildman."

"I bet you say that to all the girls," she whispered back.

"Only the ones I love." He opened his eyes then, his smile of contentment fading a little before lines of worry. "You know that I love the others, too, right?"

"I do."

"Are you…are you okay with that?"

"I honestly don't know," Naomi admitted. "I've never done anything like this. You're only the second man I've ever made love to."

"Really? But you're so beautiful!"

"There have been suitors, but none ever felt right."

He nodded. "I understand," he said. "I think the same thing was true for the others." He reached up and fondled her breasts with his left hand, gently kneading it. "Naomi, could we make love again?"

"Again?" She looked down, and sure enough, he was ready. The strange thing was that she was ready too. She could feel her nipples hardening and her sex moistening in anticipation. "I should be sore," she said.

"I won't let you be sore," Bill said. "Not as long as you let me love you, you won't feel any pain."

He was on his side and she lay on her back. With gentle moves to guide him, she turned on her side facing away from him, and arched her back until he slipped inside her from behind.

Their second session was slow and gentle. It did not have the same urgency as their first coupling, but was just as satisfying. Moreover, when he finished he stayed within her, and she found she loved the contact. He reached around and she took the questing hand and held it between her breasts, even as with her other hand she pulled the sheet over them.

"You'll be here in the morning?" he whispered into her neck.

"I will," she promised.

* * *

Deanna sat in her office researching historical archives. It was very late, but after their meeting with Janeway both she and Will were worried. Since taking over her office, Janeway had demonstrated a spiteful side to her personality that surprised even those who knew her. Even her long time friend Tuvok avoided her by simply returning to his family on Vulcan.

Part of it, Deanna knew, was how she was treated upon her return. Because of the damage Janeway inflicted on the Borg, she was hailed as a conquering hero. The Fleet Admiral at the time felt political pressure to take advantage of this fame. The Dominion War was still fresh on everyone's mind and here was this Starfleet Captain who managed to get her crew back relatively safe from the Delta Quadrant. It was the stuff of legends.

So a junior Starfleet captain from the Sciences side of the fleet found herself promoted from captain to Vice Admiral, leapfrogging over several senior captains and rear admirals who had more proven records both in and out of the Dominion War. Resentment was natural and expected, since in actuality Jean-Luc Picard was just one of the more logical choices for the position and was senior.

Of course, Jean-Luc was the penultimate statesman. He chose to retire in dignity and assume the role of Ambassador to Vulcan, where he was quintessential to resolving the Romulan Crises with the Vulcan Ruling Council and Ambassador Spock. He came home a hero to the Federation, retired again, married his dearest friend to the fanfare and delight of the whole planet, and was immediately voted in as Prime Minister of Earth, where he still served. While it was not a Federation Position, because of Earth's role in the Federation, he pulled more clout with the Federation President than any single core-world position. Or any mere vice admiral.

It also helped that the President was a former pupil of his who served on the Enterprise.

However, six months into Janeway's position as Vice Admiral, as the excitement died down and people in power reviewed the records of her journey, questions were asked very quietly in the halls of Starfleet Command.

When Fleet Admiral Strein took over, Vice Admiral Janeway was quietly transferred from Strategic Command to Fleet Sciences, a move that ironically enough suited her background better. But it was also a clear signal that the new Fleet Admiral did not approve of the promotion.

Janeway had been on the sciences side ever since. Tragically, she was quite good in the role. Janeway was very organized and had a good grasp on the science being performed under her command. But there was still the bitterness of having to move down, even if only in duties performed. The one truly good thing she did was take a young orphan under her wing and show her love and affection.

Which she threw away today.

Bashir walked into her office. "What are you doing here so late?" Deanna said.

"The kids are having a sleepover," Bashir said. "Ezri had to take an evening shift when one of her lieutenants called in ill."

The two sat in companionable silence for a minute or two, not talking or even working. Suddenly the lights went out, though only for a moment. "Well," Bashir said, "I'd say that's that."

"Did we do the right thing?" Deanna asked.

"I suppose it depends on who you ask," Bashir said with a grin. "Obviously not to Admiral Janeway."

The lights flickered again. "What do we do next?"

"We let them go, I suppose," Bashir said. "We have ruled out pathology. There is no actual proof that Mr. Hogs actually caused the girls to experience what they experienced, and the psychokinetic outbursts at night appear to have diminished. As far as we know, they all share the same genetic variances and are drawn together because of those variances."

"The parents are not going to be happy."

"I suppose not."

"And will Bill return to Hope's Point?"

"Not, I suspect, if Naomi has anything to do with it," Bashir said.

They sat together for another minute before Deanna said, "I feel like we're on the tip of an iceberg, that there is something significant about Bill and these girls that we're missing. Something important."

"Me too. It's quite exciting, actually. So, aside from sitting around trying our best not to think about Naomi having sex with a minor, what are you doing?"

"Doing another database search. All Bill remembers from his youth is an aunt named Petunia, and uncle named Vernon, and a cousin named Dudley. No last name. In a suburb of London that doesn't exist anymore."

Curious, Bashir stood and walked around to look at Deanna's monitor. "Deanna," he asked, "what databases have you and your people been using?"

"General census and demographics," she said. "What else would we use?"

"You do know that those only go back to 2108, right? Before that all census information was recorded by each individual nation, and those records were manually converted into an archaic electronic image format that isn't compatible with the standard dataset format used today. To search those, you have to use an AI to do print recognition scans. And that's assuming the records even survived the war to begin with."

Deanna blinked up at her boss. "You mean…?"

"You've been looking in the wrong place."

* * *

sp

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**Author's Responses:**

First and foremost, I'd like to thank the following people for their reviews and comments:

Darksnider05; fly; Sharnoarasian Empire; gaul1; cruailsama; imgonnadie; Midoriryu; Obsidius; Starboy454; dajohu; Roosterman71; Vyrexuviel; SomeGuyFawkes; GinaStar; Sir Trib The Bold; immortal7; demon blade; CatWriter; Isis The Sphinx; Pointer3109; Vukk; SteveD3; AISCHILOS; JEKrug01; Maximillian1; Debbster21; 1020 Gates; Bobboky; Crys; idlejim; Wonderbee31; arturus; rio45; and Manus Dei.

Thank you all for your reviews and comments. I greatly appreciate it!

A little note about this chapter before proceeding:

Frankly I'm not sure the sex scene worked or even had a place in this chapter, or the story as a whole. I'm ambivalent about it, and my beta reader was even more so. I decided to go ahead and include it solely because of those of you who followed over from HP and the FF and are used to it. I want to say this is the most explicit scene in the story. There are a few other scenes, but this is the most intense because it is the first. We won't be seeing anything like what we saw with FF. Anyway, I just wanted to throw that out there. Feel free to comment or tell me what you think--whether it had a place in the fic or not.

Now, for Questions and Answers:

Q: I gotta say from a point of view this is ridiculous because they could easily separate them and stop all this.

A: Well, in truth almost all fanfiction is kind of ridiculous. For that matter, having witches and wizards is kind of ridiculous. We read it because it is an enjoyable escape, not because it makes sense. At least, that's my personal approach. That said, as seen in this chapter they are keeping them separated and it hasn't been helping. The damage is done.

Q: I have a petter answer to why a fith girl was pulled in. It is the same reasons that there were 5 girls in the first story.

A: That is exactly right. The Potter family line is exerting its own pull, just like the lines of the Four Founders.

Q: So the question becomes, referring to your Q&A at the end of this chapter: You say the girls are not the same. Does that mean an entirely new person picked due to the nature of the magic that brought the original group together in the first place, or same soul that is now an evolved personality due to new life experiences? Or could it possibly be a mix of the two?

A: That is actually directly answered in the chapters following the recovery of his memories, so I'll have to defer an answer for now. Sorry. Regarding the scan--since I can't remember if I address it directly, essentially the scan is piercing their magical core, which is what causes the pain. That too is explained soon. Good questions all.

Q: I've given up guessing who Grams was, was she a descendant of Harry's or one of his wives?

A: That is another question that is directly answered in the story. It is an OC, though, so don't worry too much about it:)

Q: For example the plica semilunaris (NOT "plica semlunaris"), is actually useful and needed. It helps remove nastiness from our eyes.

A: Sadly we are only mere literary types with a very poor background in biology. It was my admittedly poor attempt to illustrate that Harry does not have any vestigial organs due to the fact that, at least in this fic, Harry is biologically a slightly more advanced form of human. I regret my examples 1) didn't work for you; and 2) the source I literally copied and pasted the term from had it misspelled, since I wouldn't have known it on my own for the world.

Q: Did they not even NOTICE that Bill Hogs was somehow able to strongly effect the electronics when he focused extra effort/energy into helping his lady friend at the end there?

A: Oh yes, they noticed. Thing is, Starfleet had seen biological energy fields, advanced species and even God-like beings before. So their absence of shock does not mean they don't notice it. It just means they're not shocked by it. Surprised, maybe. But not shocked.

Q: Also the comparison between Kes and Harry is almost scary.

A: Glad you caught that. Yes, the comparison was intentional. At the end of Kes's life when she was at full power, she was scary. Still a crappily written character, but powerful. And I wanted to illustrate that Starfleet is aware that Harry could potentially have similar power. Going back to the previous question--they are aware.

Q: Are the girls reincarnations of his original mates, or just something new that came from being reborn? Also is Harry going to have the opposite effect on men?

A: The girls are original characters, not reincarnations. Harry does not repulse men, at least not for magical reasons. The other questions are answered as the story progresses.

Q:How public will Harry's past get?

A: Bwahahahahahahahahaha!

Q: I have read this story since day one, I will read it until it is over. You are one of the rare authors who appears to me to take this seriously, and enjoy what you do. That dedication makes reading your work all the better. Thank you for placing this online and sharing your efforts.

A: Not a question, but a genuinely kind review deserves an equally heartfelt thank you!

Q: Crys

A: Shhhhhh!

Q: I think this is excellent, are you going to explore the 'grams' link any further?

A: Remember Susan was planning on telling him everything about what happened right before she had her first nightmare? It will definitely come up. Also, I'm proceeding under the assumption that like newborns, Harry's reborn body's mind was still forming synaptic connections. In essence, he has no memory of those first few hours. Hence he doesn't remember the rabbit.

Q: I thought that there would have been more empathy shown by the starfleet orphanage - the lady in charge just seemed a little out of character for a professional teacher/social worker. Will starfleet intelligance or section 31 be making an appearance? (They would be jumping all a potential Q)

A: I didn't have much time for the orphanage, but the scene with her and Naomi was intended to show that she was genuinely concerned for Bill. I guess I just didn't give her enough time. As for your second question: Bwahahahahahahaha!

Wow, lots of questions this time. I really appreciate the fact that you folks are thinking about this. It means a lot. And back to this chapter, again I wouldn't mind feed back on whether the sex scene fit or not. I was fully intending this to be a PG story when I first started writing, then I ran into that scene and I'm honestly just not sure. So let me know what you think.

Thank you all for reading!


	12. Another Ghost

1) Sorry for the late post. No access to a computer last night. And 2) Author's responses at the end.

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: Ghosts**

Naomi woke early the next morning to the feel of a very hard penis pressing between her thighs. She couldn't help the very happy, very naughty grin as she lifted one leg, took that penis and guided it into her body.

Behind her, Bill moaned. He was still asleep even as he moved against her. She pushed back against him, gripping the sheets and mattress with both hands as the rush of an orgasm overtook her again. She could really get used to this. "Naomi," he whispered. "Yes."

He thrust inside her, again and again, and she pushed back against him, until finally they finished together. "I do believe that is the best wake-up call I have ever had," Naomi declared. She stretched and luxuriated against the feel of him. "I could so get used to this."

She felt a wiggle of worry in her mind. She turned around on the mattress until she faced him and saw the frown line furrowing his brow. She kissed the furrow and hugged him close. "What's wrong?"

"What's going to happen to me?" he asked. "To us. All of us. Where am I going to live? How will I live? I don't have much in the way of useful skills."

"You have skills," she said with a teasing smile. It was enough to tease a responding smile from him. "The first thing will be to have you declared an adult. I think a meeting with a local Family Services judge should be enough to do that. Then, if you want, you can live with me.'

"But won't you be in trouble here? Will you lose your job?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Probably. I'm just not sure I care, so long as I'm with you."

Eventually they showered in the small facility the observation room provided and got dressed. They held hands as they walked to the door.

"Am I allowed out?" Bill asked.

"Yes," Naomi assured him. The two of them stepped out of the hall and were met almost immediately by Deanna.

The half-Betazoid swayed a little when she saw them. "Are you okay?" Bill asked, stepping forward to lend a hand if necessary.

"I'm fine," she assured the young man. "I'm empathic. The two of you are glowing."

Bill blushed brilliant, but couldn't help but smile. "It was a good night."

"Speak for yourself," Deanna said, though she too smiled. How could she do otherwise went basking in the glow of the young couple's love for each other? "I was trying to assure the local authorities that the power losses were only temporary and we had the situation under control."

"Power loss?" Naomi asked, wide-eyed. "How bad?"

"Most of the Bay area, but only for a second. If the power grid were any less redundant, or still had the pre-War wiring, we would have lost power for longer."

"Sorry," the two said.

They looked so absolutely adorable Deanna couldn't help but laugh. "It's all right." She walked with them toward the door. "Bill, we've informed Hope's Point that you will not be returning. I'm assuming you and Naomi reached an agreement."

"Oh yeah."

The elevator slid down to the ground level in absolute silence and they stepped into the cavernous, well-lit lobby of Starfleet Medical.

"Doctor Riker…"

"Deanna, please," she said.

"Deanna," Bill continued, "what will happen to Naomi?"

"It's complicated," Deanna admitted. "And not just for her. Last night was a risk for both myself and Admiral Bashir, the Chief Medical Officer. Although technically it wasn't our decision for Naomi to come to you, we still allowed it to happen here. So at the very least there will be a review. Worst case she will lose her license for five years and be dismissed from Starfleet. Best case, she will be diminished in rank with a formal censure on her record."

"Or I could resign," Naomi added.

"You could," Deanna said. "But I hope you don't. I think going forward you should specialize in younger children exclusively, because you have repeatedly demonstrated great skill and compassion in that area. But I won't pretend to tell you what to do. However, don't be surprised if Beverly does."

"Beverly?" Bill asked.

Naomi squeezed his hand. "You know I'm an orphan," she said. "My father died before I was born and my mother died on _Voyager_ shortly after. I was the only child on the ship for many years. The former captain, Admiral Janeway, took me in as a foster child. But Beverly Crusher…er, I mean, Picard, she was my mentor once I started. She took me under her wing and really put my feet on the path of psychiatry. She's like my grandmother. I think you'll really like her."

"And there she is," Deanna said.

Beverly stood near the entrance of the building wearing business slacks and a pleasant green blouse that off-set her beautiful silver hair. Bill stumbled a little as they reached her.

Beverly smiled brilliantly as she pulled Naomi into a hug. "I don't think I've ever seen you so happy," she said simply.

She turned to Bill and started to hug him too, but then froze. She backed up, a confused look on her face. Bill too seemed confused. "What is it?" Deanna asked.

"He feels like Ronin," Beverly said, clearly upset.

"You remind me of someone," Bill said. "Someone I knew, but I can't remember."

Naomi shook her head. "Bill, I'm beginning to wonder if I'm going to be able to introduce you to anyone."

He shrugged. "Sorry."

* * *

"Ronin was an anaphasic life form linked to the women in my family," Beverly explained over a very strong Romulan martini at the Observation Deck. "I'm not sure he was very harmful to us, but he was dangerous to anyone who tried to separate him from us. He actually lived in a candle, believe it or not. He was able to enter us and it was a rather erotic experience."

"I know all about that, now," Naomi said.

"What happened?" Bill asked.

"I had to destroy him after he killed a man," she said. She could not help the slightly wistful tone in her voice.

"Beverly," Bill asked, "where does your family come from?"

"Originally, Scotland."

"Do you…have you ever heard of the name McGonagall?"

Beverly sipped her blue martini while she thought about it. "You know, if you go far enough back, I think we do have a McGonagall in our family. How do you know that name?"

"I'm not sure," he said. "But you're describing a ghost."

"There's no such things as ghosts," Beverly scoffed. "He was an alien being who happened to be made up of energy."

Bill looked down at the half-eaten sandwich. "Could anyone else see him?"

"No, not really."

"I think that wasn't because of him," he said. He very carefully reached out and took her hand. "You're like us, Beverly."

She sat up. "What?"

Naomi, though, was staring at her mentor with an open jaw. "That's why," she whispered.

"Why what?" Beverly said, now disturbed.

"Why I felt more comfortable around you than anyone else, even Auntie Kate," Naomi said. "You _are_ one of us."

"One of what?" Beverly demanded.

"Whatever we are," Bill said with a shrug. "I bet you have the prapacratex or whatever you call it that we have."

"Paracortex," Naomi corrected with a laugh. "I bet you do. Did you ever go through a deep-rez scan?"

"Yes, I have!" Beverly said triumphantly. Then she frowned. "Not for my head, though. It was just for my leg. But it did not hurt at all."

"Whatever is inside of us wasn't active for you," Bill said. "Whatever makes us like we are, it's been sleeping. In a way what's happened to the others is my fault, because when they got around me the power woke up. And now that you've been around me, yours will too."

"Oh, this is silly," Beverly said. She reached into her purse and pulled out a small medical tricorder.

"You carry a tricorder in your purse?" Deanna asked, obviously amused.

"I never leave home without it," she said. She did a scan over herself, and then pressed it against her skin. She stared at the results in shock. She then used the tricorder to access her personal medical records.

"I'll be damned," she whispered. "I completely forgot about my DNA test at the Academy. It was tagged as abnormal but was attributed to a mutation." She looked up. "I really am one of you." She developed a devilish grin. "Does that mean I need to sleep with you, Bill? Think you can handle a woman with real experience?"

"Beverly!" Naomi said. "I may end up sharing him, but not with you! You have your own."

"I'm just teasing," Beverly assured the younger woman. "Although if I start flinging objects around in my sleep I am blaming you."

"You're taking this awfully well," Deanna noted.

"I'm sixty-eight years old," Beverly said. "It isn't going to change my life, and it _is_ interesting."

"I bet there are others too," Bill said, desperate to change the subject. "The power is just sleeping."

"So why do you feel like Ronin to me?"

"If he was a ghost, only we could see him," Bill said with a certainty he couldn't explain. "And…well, I think I was a ghost too. It would explain everything. I think I was a ghost, and something happened that gave me a new body."

"Susan was lying," Deanna said. "When she talked about how they found you. It may be time to talk to her."

"I think she wanted to tell me," Bill nodded. "Before all this started, anyway."

"We'll talk to her," Naomi added. "We are free now. I don't think this is a Starfleet issue any more."

"She's right," Beverly said. "Now it's family."

Bill choked on his water. "Family?" The word obviously had special meaning to him.

"I haven't seen my son in ten years," Beverly said. "I married again very late in my life. As far as I am concerned, Naomi is family. And it is very obvious to me that you are now a part of her life. So yes, family." She stood. "Besides, I'm the wife of the elected leader of the planet. You'd be amazed at what doors that can open. Are Susan and her friends in school?"

Deanna nodded. "I would love to go with you, but for the sake of my career I had better not."

Beverly leaned over and hugged her. "Don't worry, dear, I'll take recordings."

* * *

As the First Lady of Earth, Beverly rated a security contingent of four dark-suited men with discreet earpieces and very well hidden personal adaptive shields and phasers. They were waiting by a jitney with the Parliamentary Flag on the doors to mark it as an official government vehicle.

Beverly knew all four of her guards by their first names. She had them thoroughly wrapped around her finger as they allowed their boss and her two guests to climb in. Deanna waved to them before talking back to the Starfleet Medical campus nearby.

As soon as the doors were sealed and the four of them were in the private cabin, Beverly looked from the blushing Bill to the radiant Naomi and said, "Well, how was it?"

"Better than I could have ever imagined," Naomi said as she took Bill's hand.

"I'm glad," Beverly said. "I was hoping you would find someone. Granted, I didn't think you'd be sharing, but that's what it looks like."

"You…you don't mind?" Bill said.

"If you…if we are a truly different branch of humans, it is entirely possible that we may have different needs. Issues of morality are often shaped by physiological need. For instance, among Deltans it is immoral for a Deltan to have relations with another species, not because they can't, but because they are so sexually permissive and expressive, the non-Deltan partner would essentially be ruined for any other relationship. We may be looking at something similar to that."

"Speaking of Deltans, I wonder if Katherine's mother's hair ever grew back," Naomi said. "She is a Starfleet commander and I believe she may be suffering some lingering post-traumatic stress. Her relationship with her daughter is tenuous at best, and they argued on the way up to do the scan. By the end of the argument Commander Dunningham was completely bald."

"Hmm," Beverly said as she touched her hair, "remind me never to get any of you mad."

They finally arrived at the high school. Even Beverly was impressed—"It's as large as Starfleet Medical!"

Fortunately class was in session when the First Lady, her security retinue, and her two guests walked into the administrative offices. At first the secretary did not recognize her. Then she stared a moment at the long, silver tresses and the four security guards before putting on a strained smile and buzzing the principal.

Ten minutes later, they had their own conference room. Five minutes after that, the girls started to arrive. Katherine was first, and the moment she stepped into the room she ignored everyone else and ran for Bill.

Their kiss caused the lights to flicker. "That's an interesting effect," Beverly noted. "Was that you last night?"

Naomi nodded as Mary came in, and did the same exact thing with the same result. Diana actually squealed a little as she jumped into Bill's arms and started kissing him so sensuously that Naomi started to get hot again.

Finally Susan came in. She paused at the door and saw the others there, but didn't really see them. Her eyes were locked on Bill. He put Diana down gently with one last kiss, then walked to the door and Susan.

Her lip trembled. "I'm sorry for getting you in trouble," she said.

"I'm not," he told her. "Because now we know more than we did before." He deliberately placed his hands on her cheeks, and slowly leaned down until they kissed. The lights went out for two seconds before power was restored.

Susan's eyes were still closed as their lips parted. "I've been dreaming about that for so long."

"All of us have," Diana said.

The four of them looked at Naomi. "But you were first," Katherine said with certainty. "We all felt it."

Naomi didn't try to deny it. "I was of age, and more importantly, I was willing to wear scanners so that we might have an idea of what was happening."

Then, and only then, did the four of them realize who it was who pulled them out of class. Diana started stuttering, while Susan grinned brightly. "You're just like we are!" she declared. The other stared first at her, then at Beverly, before they similarly smiled.

"If it's that obvious, maybe I should wear a sign," Beverly said. "I take it then you know who I am? As to why I am here, Naomi here was my protégé during her medical academy days, and I came to care for her a great deal. Which of you is Susan? Ahh, yes. Well, Susan, I understand that you have something to say to us."

"I…I gave my report to Starfleet," Susan said.

"We're not Starfleet," Naomi said. "This is family. I've made my choice. I am with Bill. Beverly is here for me, but she's not with Starfleet. This is for us to know and no one else."

"Does that mean…" Diana looked around the room. "Does that mean we all…how do I say this…"

"This bond we have with him affects us all," Naomi said. "We studied it as much as we could and there is no denying the fact that we are all linked. When I went to him last night, I knew that I wouldn't be the only one. And while I'm a little confused by it all, I'm okay with that."

"I am too," Diana said. "In fact, I think it's kind of neat. With five of us, Bill will never get his way!"

"Or he'll have us all wrapped around his finger," Mary said.

"Our parents will kill us," Katherine predicted.

"The hair hasn't grown back yet?" Bill asked.

"She's getting follicle therapy, but so far it's not working and she's wearing a wig."

"So," Beverly said. "Here we are: a gorgeous woman in her prime, five not-quite as gorgeous but certainly lovely young ladies, and a young man who is either the luckiest person in history or the most doomed. What we want to know, Miss Chamberlain, is what really happened in Scotland."

"I've wanted to tell Bill before," Susan said. "I've been carrying everything around hoping I could. How much do you remember from that day?"

"Not much," Bill said.

"Do you remember the rabbit?" Mary asked.

"Rabbit?" Bill blinked at her.

"We believe Bill's body is new," Naomi said. "If that's true, then he may not have actually retained memories of his first few hours."

Susan took her backpack and placed it on the table. She removed a very large picture album, the shattered, twisted sword handle, the decorated stick, the smaller hand-written book, and finally Grams' hologram. She placed it on the floor and they all watched.

* * *

sp

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**Author's Responses:**

First, I'd like to thank the following people for their reviews and comments:

Sharnorasian Empire; Helena; Sir Trib the Bold; Maximillian1; Isis the Sphinx; Roosterman71; Taure; rio45; gaul1; damon blade; cruailsama; Gogolu; Libri Ignis; SomeGuyFawkes; Chrisgocountyjr (clever--I liked that show); GinaStar; Debbster21; Obsidius; dajohu; D.J.J.L.D.H.B.'M-PC'7th Steve (yes, even you), dragonlord; kb0; prudiisten; Midoriryu; Pointer3109; immortal7; Tilius; JEKrug01; Tilius; OrionTheHunter; Ryan Chessman aka Crys; Wonderbee31; impatientuser; arturus; Sam74au; GinnyLover14; Manus Dei; jenstarfire; Michae1ange1o; starboy454; idlejim; Katsuhito; and Rylia.

Thank you all for your reviews and comments, good and bad. I appreciate it.

Now for Questions and Ansers:

Q: Good God Man, PLEASE use *FORUMS* to communicate, and to ask and answer questions about your story. You have been around here long enough to know that.

A: Until such time as the administrators of this site formally update the guidelines and TOS to specifically forbid authors from having the courtesy to respond to reviewers in posts, which I assure you they have not done, then this is the method by which I will communicate. I tried forums once before and nothing came of it. It you wish to use the forums I have established, I will be glad to respond in kind. As for your issues with TEXT-2-SPEECH, I'm very sorry but please do not think I am writing this for you. As harsh or as rude as it may sound, I am not. I am writing stories that I want to see and read, and then I share them with others who might also want to read them. How you choose to read them, or even if you choose to read them at all, is entirely your responsibility and prerogative. Again, I'm not saying this to be mean or combative. This is just the way it is. Again, if the site changes its TOS or guidelines to require something else, I will consider changing accordingly.

Q:Also, this paracortex thing, is this the first step in science being able to identify and quantify magic itself? Would be interesting if it did, as it seems to be a rather mysterious force in harry potterland.

A: I can't believe I'm pulling a George Lucas, but I'm attempting to take the approach of how Starfleet would describe magic (just like the prequals tried to scientifically describe the Force). The Books make a point of distinguishing magic users as being different than muggles. And so I've taken the step of describing how. They are a separate species entirely that emerged from humans through evolution. Nothing canon in it, it's just the way I've approached the story.

Q: Hope you don't mind that I skipped [the sex scene] once I realized how detailed you were going to get.

A: Not at all. That was actually a bit of my concern. I'm not sure that level of detail was needed. The morning after scene was a little more toned down, and I don't intend it getting any worse.

Q: Um, please translate: Bwahahahahahahahahaha!

A: I could answer your question but to do so might reveal essential plot points. But the points excite me into an evil laugh.

Q: You treat Harry as animals now. Basic desires and such. Please add intellect to the mix.

A: I'm not sure I see it that way, but I think I understand where you're coming from. It will change.

Q: If in fact the genetic component was always present (squibs) and contact with Harry/Bill 'woke up' or generated their Magical cores, would it not be a relatively simple matter for Starfleet Medical (or starfleet intelligance/section 31 who care much less about ethics) to track down other squibs who register similar genetic drift and have been overlooked so far because no one knew it was significant?

A: Hmmm...maybe. Can't say more than that.

Q: What's with the bitchiness between "Beverly" and "Kathryn"? This hardly seems in character. They are both too professional and intelligent to snipe that way, and why would they be antagonistic anyway?

A: Excellent question! Kathryn is deeply, angrily bitter about being moved from essentially commanding the whole fleet, to commanding the sciences division. The move guarantees that she can never move up again, and so she's hit the pinnacle of her career. But she is completely alone. Beverly is bitterly angry that when Kathryn was promoted, she was promoted over a senior and vastly more deserving Jean Luc Picard, which made the man retire from Starfleet. In the end, they actively despise each other. That said, my goal was not to make Janeway OOC. The bitter older woman from the end of the series who violated all the rules to save her younger self gave hints that she had this in her.

Q: Will Starfleet mistake Bill as a Q?

A: While there is a mild comparison made by Chief (Now Professor) O'Brien, they do not make that mistake.

Q: Will Harry and his "mates" travel off world to say either Vulcan or Betazed to investigate the similarities in their brains?

A: That is discussed toward the end.

Q: So, how quickly will this one be posted in its entirety?

A: Twenty-four chapters, one post a week. This is chapter twelve, so thirteen more weeks. Although, I'm playing with the idea of combining chapters 13 and 14, since one of them is very short.

Thanks for the feedback regarding the sex-scene. It was mixed--some liked it, some didn't. I'm still unsure, but I've posted it and I rarely go back to a story once it's finished.

Well, things are moving. If I combine the next two chapters, then that will leave us with Bill's full memory the next chapter after.

Thanks for reading!


	13. Confessions

Author's Responses at the end:

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: Confessions**

Deanna did the rounds with her staff upon her return to lunch. Most of their patients were treated on an outpatient basis, but there were some patients with lingering issues that required prolonged stays.

She got back to her office and started on the pages and pages of reports that needed to be filed or approved. It was while she was on her third report that her desk-sized PADD beeped at her. She minimized her desk monitor and put the new message on the main wall monitor.

It was a message confirming that her records search was complete. "Computer, display results," she said.

The results came from the Office of National Statistics in the old United Kingdom of Great Britain, located in Newport, South Wales. It was from a single line in a census record from the 1991 C.E. census. It listed the names Vernon and Petunia Dursley, child Dudley Dursley, nephew Harry Potter.

_Nephew_. "Ancillary search: Harry Potter."

Now that she knew where to search, Deanna quickly found what she wanted. "Multiple references found."

"Display."

Deanna read the display in confusion. "Computer, identify NSPCC."

"National Society for the Prevention of Child Cruelty," the computer responded. It spoke in a young, pleasant male voice. "It was founded in 1889 in the United Kingdom and was disbanded in 2161."

Deanna started reading the files. "Is there record of any resolution to these accusations?"

"No record of prosecution can be found," the computer said. "All cases dismissed due to insufficient evidence."

She continued to read through files and files of abuse accusations, until they ended abruptly in 1991. She looked further until her hand froze over the controller. It was a picture: a young boy, with broken wire-frame glasses held together by tape. The boy was perhaps nine or a small ten at the time the photo was taken. His most remarkable features were his shock of unkempt black hair and a pair of brilliant green eyes. He was staring into the camera with a frightened, hurt expression.

The picture was dated 1990. "That's him," she whispered. "But how…"

* * *

"Grams' full name was Margaret Ginevra Potter Dulhaim," Susan explained after they watched the hologram. "Mother said that even her mother used to call her Grams, so she was older than anyone else we knew."

"If she was like us," Bill said, "maybe…maybe we live longer."

"But then there's the book," Susan pointed out. "And the pictures. She knew about us before I even met any of the others. But where is Naomi?"

"I was born on a Starship 70,000 light years away," Noami said. "And the year she made that note I was interning on the USS _Trident_."

Bill, though, was looking at the badly burned book. "The circle has five spaces."

"But there were only four of us," Susan said.

"I'm still confused as to what actually happened when you did this ritual Margaret told you about," Beverly said.

Diana hunched over. "There were ghosts."

"Thousands and thousands of ghosts," Mary added. "I've never been so scared in my life."

"I wasn't, though," Susan said. "Grams was there. She was a ghost. She spoke to me. She told me to complete the ceremony. That…" She closed her eyes as if trying to remember. Then she paled. "She called him Grandpapa!"

"That's right!" Mary said. "She said 'Let my beloved Grandpapa live again'!"

Diana leaned into Bill—she managed to snag the seat on his right. "She called him a being of purest love."

"But she said we were all virgins," Katherine pointed out. She looked at Naomi. "She called us pure. You're too old and to pretty to be a virgin."

"She wasn't talking about virginity," Bill said. "I think she was talking about your souls."

Beverly leaned forward. "What do you mean?"

"There is a girl in school named Jess."

"We know her," Katherine said darkly.

"She's not pure," he said. "I think she's done things in her life that were mean."

"Like sabotage a skimmer to keep me from playing?" Katherine said.

"Exactly. I think Grams meant that all of you are pure souls. You are good people. The kind of people that I could fall in love with," Bill said.

"So I finished the ceremony," Susan continued. "And then Grams' ghost said something about magic…"

Mary, with the sharpest memory of them all, said, '"And we, the last children of magic, give our souls for him, so all that we were and all that we could be shall not pass forever into the night."

"That's it," Susan said.

"Magic?" Bill said, playing with the word.

"A very famous twentieth-century writer once said that any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic," Beverly said. "This all seems to point to the idea that there is a history behind these genetic differences of ours. Perhaps those ghosts you saw are just anaphasic life forms. Perhaps we ourselves are anaphasic life forms crouched within carbon-based bodies. We understand how psycho kinesis works. If a society four hundred years ago were to encounter psycho kinesis, they would probably label it as magic."

"Which implies there is a history behind who we are," Mary said.

"But how do we find out?" Bill asked.

"By returning to the scene of the crime, of course," Beverly said. "Think your parents would be up to letting you take another field trip?"

* * *

Deanna knew who Bill was. He was an abused boy from four hundred years ago; a boy who had no official government record after he turned eleven. Moreover, the date was disturbing. That was during Khan's rise to power—within two years Khan would rule almost quarter of the world. For Bill—no, Harry—to have grown up during the Eugenics War meant that he had lived through World War Three.

It was too much to process. She needed to talk to Bashir.

"Dr. Deanna Riker?" a voice asked.

She stopped and turned around. A man was approaching her in an unmarked black uniform. He appeared to be in his forties with thinning blonde hair and very blue eyes. "Yes?"

"My name is David Masters with Starfleet Intelligence. May I have a word with you in your office?"

"What is this about?" Deanna demanded.

"In your office, ma'am?" he said with polite insistence.

She followed him back to her office and allowed the door to close. "What is this about?"

"You accessed a watched file," he said. "What do you know about Harry Potter?"

Deanna took a deep breath. The man was utterly intense, but she could not read any emotion off him. Either he was very good, or he was shielding her somehow. "I will need to confirm your credentials before I discuss confidential patient information with you, Mr. Masters."

Before she could hit her com badge, he had a phaser pointed at her head. "One shot, and there will be nothing left of your body," he said, still somehow hiding his emotions. "And then we will go after Dr. Bashir. I understand he has two children. They attend the Archer Middle School. Jahdzia and Benjamin. If that doesn't work, then we will find new targets. Perhaps a photon torpedo on all the local schools." He leaned forward until his nose was a hair's breath from hers. "Do not doubt for a moment that we won't kill every man woman and child in this city if we have to. Now tell me what you know about Harry Potter."

Deanna lifted her chin. "Go ahead and fire," she said calmly.

Instead of firing, a gloved fist slammed into her stomach, dropping her to her knees. She threw up bile and blood. "I am not a patient man, Doctor. Death is a last resort, but only because you'll then be useless to us. We would much rather keep you alive and in screaming agony. The choice is yours."

Deanna's choice was made. She hit her com badge and shouted, "Will, help me!" seconds before Masters' foot slammed into her face.

He knelt down beside her and disappeared in a flash of green light a second before several columns of white light appeared. Admiral Riker, Commander Ezri Dax and several security officers instantly spread around the room.

"Admiral!" Ezri said, pointing at the pool of blood and bile.

"Find her!" Riker roared. "Tear this building apart and find my wife!"

* * *

The Caraoughs were surprisingly accommodating when they gave Mary permission to go to Scotland. This might have been due to the fact that the request came personally from the wife of their Prime Minister.

Commander Dunningham was at her follicle treatments, so it was Jeff Dunningham who answered the door. After his eyes stopped bulging, he looked at Katherine, then Bill. "Do you really want to go?" he finally asked.

"I want to be with Bill," she said with the utter conviction of a woman in love.

Jeff leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Then go. I'll deal with your mom."

"Who knows," Katherine said, "maybe I'll learn how to bring her hair back."

He grinned; then shrugged. "Oddly enough, I think it's kind of attractive. I love you, Sweetie."

"I know, Daddy," Katherine said.

Susan's parents were not as thrilled, until Susan told them the story of what really happened. The fact that it was essentially Grams that put them all on the path made the Chamberlains feel somewhat responsible.

"We're looking for answers," Bill finally told them. "We know now that I didn't change your daughter, I just woke up what was always in her. Now we want to know why we're different."

"Will you take care of her?" Peter Chamberlain demanded.

"With my life," he said. "I do love her, sir. And I will never do anything to hurt her. Ever."

Their last stop was Carey Boxing. Diana's mother was shy and awkward around Beverly, but still asked to speak with Bill alone. Bill walked with her to the woman's room, leaving the others in the apartment.

Carey turned and looked at Bill for a very long time, before sitting down on the edge of her bed. "Diana is all I have," she said simply. "She's what I live for. Are you going to take her away from me?"

Bill knelt down in front of her and took her hand. "I want her as part of my life," he said. "I can't imagine being without her or any of the others. I want to marry her and have children and make her happy for the rest of her life. And if we do have children, they're going to need a grand mum to help take care of them." He gently took the older woman in a hug and held her, letting the warmth he possessed pour into her. "You won't be losing a daughter, you'll be gaining a family. I promise you this."

She was crying. He didn't realize at first because she was doing so in absolute silence, but she was crying into his shoulder. Bill realized then that Carey Boxing was almost like them. That there was something within her that called out to him, but without any of the strength of the others. She was like a mid-way point between him and a normal person. And because of that, she never, ever found the right person. She settled, and when she lost the one she settled for, she gave up on herself and lived for the little girl he was going to take away from her.

The realization came in a rush, and in that moment he loved Carey Boxing as if she were his own mother. He kissed her hair and continued to hold her. He still held her when the door opened and Diana whispered, "Mother?"

Carey looked up from Bill's shoulder, her face splotched from her crying. She got up, crossed the floor and clung to her daughter, still shaking with her tears. Diana held her back. "It's going to be okay," Diana said. "It's going to be okay, mother."

Bill walked to the couple and placed a comforting hand on Carey's back. "I told her that I wanted to marry you, Diana," he said softly. "That I couldn't imagine not having you in my life. And that your mother would always be a part of that life."

"Of course," Diana said. "Because I couldn't imagine you, mother, not being a part of mine."

"She should come with us," Bill decided. "I think she could have been like us. Do you feel it in her?"

"Yes," Diana said. "Come with us, mother. To Scotland."

"But…" Carey wiped her nose. "I thought you were going to…to be together."

"The power goes out whenever we kiss," Bill pointed out. "We can't do anything while flying there. We're going to try and find out more about where we come from. And that includes you. Please, come with us."

Carey finished wiping her eyes. "Okay," she said weakly.

"Come on, Mother," Diana said. "Let's get you cleaned up. Can't let the First Lady see you like that!"

They were airborne ten minutes later. However, before they were even out of California two Starfleet fighters formed up around them. Beverly looked out the window in confusion before touching her monitor. Before she had a chance to make a call, Admiral Riker's face appeared. He looked positively haggard.

"At last!" he said. "I've been trying to call you."

"Will, what's wrong?"

"Deanna has been kidnapped. Right out of her office. Her files were completely deleted. The kidnapper used a Borg-based transporter that went right through the building shields. She was researching your new pet, so if that's what they were after you could be in danger. I've assigned the escort for you and alerted Jean-Luc. He's arranging additional security for you in Scotland."

"Oh, Will, are you all right?"

"Doing the best I can," Will said. "There was evidence that she was hurt before they took her. Whatever you all are doing has definitely caught someone's attention."

"Please let me know if there is anything we can do," Beverly said.

"Jean-Luc has already put us in contact with surface authorities and all ship traffic has been stopped for inspections," Will said. "We'll find her. Riker out."

Beverly leaned back in her seat, confused.

Behind her, sitting snugly between Diana, Naomi and Katherine on one side and Mary and Susan on the other, Bill said, "Do you think this is about us?"

"Or you personally?" Beverly asked. "I don't know. But if someone was trying to stop us, that means we must be close to something important. So I say we keep going."

Bill made a point of looking at the women around him, and all nodded their agreement. "Okay, we keep going."

* * *

Hogwarts Valley looked the same. No grass. No vegetation at all, save for the rotting corpses of long dead trees. "Even the lake appears dead," Beverly said as she slipped her tricorder back into her purse. "I was under the impression there was supposed to be some residual radiation here, but there is no trace of it anymore."

"Maybe the ghosts took it with them," Diana said.

Bill stood on the edge of the lake staring across the water.

Naomi walked to his side and put an arm around his waist. "It feels wrong," he said. "Empty."

"Any specific memories?"

"No, just feelings. Like this place should be alive and happy, but it's not. It's cold and empty."

He turned and looked back at the castle. The others stood nearby. "Will you show me where I came from?" he asked them.

Susan stepped down, took his hand, and led him up the rise to the castle. They came at last to the round stone in the center of the shattered foundation. "What happened here?" he asked.

"This valley was the site of the last nuclear strike," Mary explained. "It was also one of the largest weapons used in the war. Almost twenty megatons."

"This foundation should be nothing but a crater," Beverly said.

"Exactly," Mary said. "Whatever destroyed the castle destroyed it from within. There wouldn't be even the remains of the trees if that missile had hit. So no one really knows what happened."

Bill knelt down and put a hand on the stone. "Feel this," he said suddenly.

With a look at each other, all the ladies knelt down. "It's warm," Diana said.

Even Beverly could feel it. She stood, removed her tricorder, which was shielded for Starfleet use, and scanned the rock. "Anaphasic energy signature," she whispered. "That would explain why no one could determine the energy signature. They were looking for a light source rather than a being."

Bill stood up. Overhead, Earth civilian defense fighters were making a lazy circle in the air, having taken over for the Starfleet fighters. "I want to go to London, please," he said at last.

"Then London it is," Beverly said. They piled back into the jitney and started the short flight to London. While in flight, the Prime Minister himself called.

"Beverly, what have you gotten yourself into now?" he asked.

"I'm helping a new friend of mine establish a harem," Beverly said with a straight face. "They're quite lovely. He's a very lucky young man."

"Indeed," Jean-Luc Picard said. He grinned and scratched his beard, though the grin was short lived. "I'm sure Will told you about Deanna. Is this possibly related?"

"We don't know for sure, but it's possible," Beverly said. "We're heading to London now."

"I'll contact Minister Whyte there and ask that you be given secure transport and escorts," he said. "These abductors used Borg technology. Even on the black market, that is difficult to come by. This implies there may be a Starfleet connection. Please be careful."

"We will, Jean-Luc. And I do have some exciting personal news for you. I'll tell you when I see you."

"Beverly, I thought we agreed I'm too old to be a father," Jean Luc said with a straight face.

Beverly chuckled. "Actually, I think we should adopt Naomi. Wouldn't it just be delicious to steal her away from Janeway?"

A strange gleam was visible in the famous leader's eyes even through the monitor. "That would indeed be a just and fitting outcome," he said. "After all, Picard is a much more civilized and auspicious name than Wildman."

"Of course, we'd probably have to take the whole harem she's joining too."

"Well, the chateau has been rather empty of late," Jean-Luc said. More seriously, he added, "Be well. Be safe."

"I will, Jean-Luc. I promise."

The signal ended. "I like him," Bill said into the chamber.

"He's going to get re-elected without a doubt," Katherine predicted.

Quietly, as if unsure of her place in the conversation, Carey said, "I voted for him."

"Well, there you go!" Beverly said, smiling fondly at Diana's mother.

The jitney landed without incident and they piled out to a waiting transport van that pulled up just moments after they landed. The van looked like a shorter version of the famous, ancient two-story buses that ran through London four centuries before. The second level was open but with shield relays around it.

Bill sat toward the front on the second level, pressed against the side. Naomi sat beside him, while Diana and Susan sat in front and Katherine and Mary sat behind. Beverly sat toward the front, flanked by her four security guards.

There was very little to see.

"It's all gone," Bill whispered. Tears were running down his face. He turned, almost accusingly, to Naomi. "Where's the city?"

"Bill?" she asked.

"Where's Whitechapel?" He stood and pointed out along the grassy shores of the river. In the distance to the north rose a line of gleaming towers, but the city he knew was simply not there. "Where's Southwark? I can see the Thames. Where is London Bridge? This isn't London!"

Naomi gently took his hand. Behind him, Katherine and Mary each placed a comforting hand on his back. He slowly sat down, trembling.

"Most of London was destroyed during World War III," Mary explained gently. "It was hit by three tactical nukes very late in the war, and after that Colonel Green used the grounds as a concentration camp for the irradiated and untreatable survivors. I'm sorry."

He looked back over the grassy knolls. "It's not supposed to be this way," he whispered. "It was supposed to be crowded and loud and busy, with lights and cars and families laughing."

"What else do you remember, Bill?" Beverly asked.

"Just that there is supposed to be more than just this!" He looked back over the side of the van. Then he became very still, even to the point where he stopped breathing. Far to the south, beyond the river, they could all see a black square rising into the sky. "What is that?" he asked.

"It's the memorial," Mary said. "My parents took me there when we lived in Paris."

Excitement washed through the van as Bill propped himself up on one knee. "We need to go there!"

Without hesitation Beverly relayed the request and the bus turned on one of the few surface roads and crossed the river. They saw people moving around the grasslands. Many were picnicking or flying kites. There were occasional benches and clumps of oak trees. It seemed idyllic.

The van came to a stop on a lot in front of the memorial. The building rose ten stories and was composed of solid black stone walls. Its only feature was a large circle taking up much of the North wall, with a strange flaming bird flying through it.

"What kind of bird is that supposed to be?" Carey Boxing asked.

Before Mary could answer, Bill said, "It's a phoenix."

"You recognize it?" Naomi asked him.

He nodded and grinned. "Can you feel it?"

Naomi and the others nodded. "What is it?" Diana asked.

Bill pointed at the monolithic building. "There. There's something in there. Power. It feels familiar." His excitement was contagious. The ladies seemed almost to be bouncing on their heels as they gathered around him. They held his hands or each others, but all six were touching when they started walking toward the foreboding memorial.

* * *

Bill tried to control his breathing. He looked at Naomi and Diana, Susan, Mary and Katherine, and smiled at all of them. "Thank you for being with me," he said.

"Where else would we be?" Susan asked.

He thought his heart would launch from her throat. "I love you girls," he whispered. "I really do."

"And we love you," Diana said as she clutched his hand.

"Don't know why yet," Mary added, "but we do."

They stepped through the non-descript glass doors into a large lobby. Almost immediately a pleasant female voice said, "Good morning and welcome to the Phoenix Memorial Museum. Would you like a guided tour?"

"Yes, please!" Bill said.

"Please follow the arrows in the floor."

An arrow lit up in front of him and Bill followed it with the ladies by his side, confused but also excited. Beverly followed a step behind much to the gawking and attention of everyone around them. Her security guards kept the attention-seekers at a safe distance. There were other people in front and behind him, but he didn't care. He could feel a trace of something in the air that made him excited and frightened at the same time. It held the promise of truth.

As they stepped into the building Bill saw that the interior actually consisted of a gently sloping ramp that ran in circles up the interior to the last floor. The open column of air in the middle was small, indicating the displays along the ramp were very large.

"Near the end of his life," the voice explained in a pleasant, conversational tone, "Colonel Phillip Green expressed regret over the millions of deaths that occurred on his orders. Though he could not undo his crimes, he vowed the victims would never be forgotten. His last order as the dictator of Britain before his death in 2075 was to create this memorial. The Colonel's contribution to the Museum remains a point of controversy. However, it has also provided great insight into the single darkest moment of human history."

They followed the arrows and found themselves looking at uniforms used by soldiers from the war. They were covered from head to toe in a strange, supple material that the unseen narrator said was proofed against small to mid caliber bullets, radiation and most forms of airborne biological or chemical attacks.

Though Bill was not paying attention, Beverly stiffened, recognizing the uniforms from the _Enterprise's_ first encounter with Q at Farpoint Station that Jean-Luc described for her.

The memorial had a display of Green's own first military uniform. It was glaringly red, and stemmed from his days as the leader of the Green Peacekeepers, a militant branch of Greenpeace that eventually contributed greatly to the global devastation of the war. The Peacekeepers were responsible for over 90 nuclear strikes toward the end, the narrator told them.

The walls were inset with lit displays of various sizes. One display showed a tank that could have come right out of a historical drama firing on something that looked like a helicopter without rotors.

The displays were surprisingly large and complete. It felt as if somehow Bill was travelling through time. Another display actually showed a pitched battle from the perspective of the Allied forces.

Bill learned that World War III officially started in 2026 when the Eastern Coalition of Asiatic States launched a nuclear missile at Boston in the United States of America. Each step up the ramp took him further along the nearly thirty years of interim warfare that ripped the world apart.

The narrator listed the official reasons for the war. Mainly it came down to resources. Oil, water, food. Population pressures turned China into an almost unstoppable juggernaut sparked by the fall of Khan and the burning years of the Eugenics Wars. The end of the Eugenics Wars directly led to the Sino-Indian War of 2018, which then directly led to the formation of the Eastern Coalition which eventually started the global phase of World War III.

Although the official casualties listed for World War III was six hundred million, that number did not take into account the four hundred million who died in the wars that led up to the final one.

The numbers were almost incomprehensible. "How could this have happened?" Bill whispered. "How could so many people just die like that?"

"The world grew too fast," Mary said. "There were too many people and not enough resources. People in the developed countries were driving three cars while people in undeveloped countries were scrounging for grains of rice in the sand. The imbalance of resources toppled the world order. But from that came the world we know today. Do you realize, Bill, that there has not been a human war in centuries? It's the longest period of peace Earth has ever had. There is still conflict, but not within the human race."

The large group continued up the gently sloping ramp until they came to the very top level, which was separate from the rest of the memorial. They passed through an arch that looked hauntingly familiar to Bill and came into the top level of the museum.

"And finally we have come to the most mystifying aspect of the memorial. This floor was designed according to Colonel Green's personal specifications, including the displays," the voice said. "Nothing has been moved since that time, as required by the museums' charter."

Bill stumbled as he walked through. "Are you all right?" Beverly asked.

The other ladies, though, also stumbled a little. "What was that?" Diana asked.

Beverly looked at all their faces. "So I wasn't the only one to feel it. Bill, do you know what that was? Bill?"

Bill did not answer. He stood stiff-legged with his teeth ground together as he stared across the room.

* * *

sp

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**Author's Responses**

Well, I hope everyone enjoyed this extra long chapter. Please note that I will be taking a break for the holidays, so not post through New Years.

Without much ado, I'd like to thank the following you people:

cruailsama; Voldemort is Dead; Vyrexuviel; Sir Trib the Bold; bord stiff; damon blade; Isis the Sphinx; Firehedgehog; dajohu; OriontheHunter; SomeGuyFawkes; Jfitzgerald; imgonnadie; Obsidius; Pointer3109; JEKrug01; immortal7; Crys; Maximillian1; menright6; Tilius; Roosterman71; Darkleag; GinnyLover14; Gaul1; Avalon11; Wonderbee31; Debbster21; Nomma; ThePink1 at ; Manus Dei; Knyght; Tremerid; Stainless Steel Rattrap; and Midoriryu.

Thank you all for your reviews and comments.

**Questions and Answers:**

Q: Only potential sticking point is if there are any restrictions on human harems, since it may be ok for the Gryxlypslitians to have 5 wives according to the charter, but it may still be illegal for humans.

A: I think that in the society we are shown in ST episodes, it is highly unlikely that morality has been regulated or controlled by the government. Religious aspects, yes, but for those on the civil side, I doubt you would see specific laws forbidding behavior that was not specifically harmful to oneself or others.

Q: On a side note i would like to ask if you plan on posting The Last Jedi any time soon?

A: I am waiting for my beta. Once the section is returned, I will start posting.

Q: About responding to reviews at the end of the story...  
It actually *IS* against FFN's guidelines (fanfiction{dot}net/guidelines/).

A: Please see below

**Entries not allowed:**

Non-stories: lists, bloopers, polls, previews, challenges, author notes, and etc. One or two liners. **MST: comments inserted in between the flow of a copied story. **Stories with non-historical and non-fictional characters: actors, musicians, and etc. Any form of interactive entry: choose your adventure, second person/you based, Q&As, and etc. Chat/script format and keyboard dialogue based entries. (Taken from Guidelines)

This refers as actual chapter **entries**. I do not enter chapter titles as comments only, nor do I interrupt the flow of any chapter be inserting comments within it. By these terms I am in complete compliance with the guidelines as posted. Until those guidelines specifically forbid any author comments of any kind, this is my chosen means of response.

Q: The interactions and the subtle telling of my previous question on how Kate became Naomi's foster mother explain alot, but at the same time does this mean that the interactions she had with Nelix were warped as well?

A: No, Naomi's relationship with Nelix was not warped. Janeway did not choose to foster Naomi until AFTER they returned to Earth. Nelix had already left Voyager by that time, and when they returned to Earth Naomi had no other family (the only change was her mother's death, which wasn't that much of a stretch since we hardly ever saw her with Naomi at all).

Q: I dont think they are squibs. I think they are active magic users but after generations of no training it went dormant until Harry woke it up again.

A: And that has pretty much been confirmed in this chapter. Diana's mother was a genertically a squib, but the other girls are simply muggleborns with dormant magical cores.

Q: Given that Bill has asked for things that haven't been made in some time, and has no knowledge of things in that time, how is it that no one has even considered the posiabilty?

A: Previous to this chapter, they could not confirm he was actually from a different time. Most scientists first try to eliminate all other possibilities before jumping to something like that. And ST canon has established that time travel is something that is tightly controlled and monitored by future entities. Doesn't mean they aren't open to the possibility, but first they had to eliminate other more probably possibilities.

Q: You should really think of the possibilities of having the first ex-Starfleet cadet who could Apparate at interplanetary range (Amanda the Q aside,) for at least one scene. You never know, he could be the next Ron. Harry's always been better off with a best mate.

A: Sorry, Wes just isn't in the story, although technically I think you're right, he probably is a Wizard. But this isn't Wes's story, it's Harry's.

Q: I wonder if you're going to pick up that (Shatnerverse) angle, or if we'll see Spock.

A: The Shatnerverse is not even remotely canon. Even in the wildly open Star Trek canon, Shatnerverse belongs right up there with that horrid Star Trek/X-Men crossover that somehow got published.

Q: The bay-area Orgasmic Brown-Out of DOOM™ was rather amusing, and every little flicker will probably annoy the crap out of the feddies, and provide a nice running joke.

A: Not a question, but I will have to trademark that because that is the best label for a scene in my fics I've ever seen!

Well, thank you all for reading. Until 2010, I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday.


	14. A Memory of Pain

**Author's Note**: I originally stated Harry regained his memory in Chap 15. Since I compressed chapters 11-13, it's happening now. As for my taking two weeks off--well, let's say I got done what I needed. So, here we go.

Further notes at the end:

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen: A Memory of Pain**

"No one has been able to explain the reasons for the displays," the memorial narrator said, "though some have described them as trophies from the colonel's childhood or specific battles during the war."

A large, garishly red locomotive and one passenger car took up much of the floor space to Bill's left. It had been melted by a huge blast of heat. The passenger car was blackened with fire and was riddled with fist-sized holes. Bill thought he heard children screaming. The locomotive had the word Hogwarts clearly printed on it.

"Others have speculated that Colonel Green had simply had a nervous breakdown at the end of his life," the narrator said. Though her tone did not change, she suddenly sounded hateful in Bill's ears. "Those who remained close to him told later historians that the colonel would often speak of seeing the ghosts of those he killed."

On the wall opposite the shattered train Bill saw brooms. Hundreds and hundreds of booms. He could still feel power in them.

Behind him he heard a timid voice ask, "Bill?"

He stumbled again. He couldn't breathe. He heard other voices speaking to him and felt comforting hands on his back and shoulders, but he could not hear the words or accept the comfort. His eyes moved even as his whole body strained against it, until he was looking at the back wall.

It looked initially as if it were covered by a strange wooden paneling. He walked stiff-legged toward the wall, unable to stop himself. He could feel sweat beading on his forehead and his breath came in ragged gasps as he moved closer and closer.

He now stood a foot away from the center of the wall. His hand drifted up until he touched a carved, stylized stick in the middle of the wall. "Yew, eleven inches," he whispered. "Dragon string. Excellent for charms."

He could feel something in it. The feel of it reminded him very much of Naomi. A sense of love and possession. Of terrible, soul-rending loss. It was a wand. It was the wand of someone he once loved. A name. Ginny. _Ginevra_.

He dropped his hand. He heard a moaning sound—a low keening—but did not realize it came from him. He took a step back. There were other wands around the first. Not one or two. Not dozens. Not hundreds. Not thousands. The wall stretched fifty feet across and teen feet high. It was lined in tens of thousands of wands three or more feet eep. Hundreds of thousands, even millions, side by side and dozens of layers thick.

He became aware of people around him, talking to him. Reaching out for him. Their words were so much noise. He spun away from them. He had to get out. He had to escape from this place. Before he could escape, though, he heard a loud thud, as if a door had closed, followed by concerned cries. In the very center of the room he saw a low-lipped, giant stone bowl covered in hauntingly familiar markings. What looked like water suddenly turned to a silvery vapor, and then the whole room darkened.

"Harry Potter!" an authoritative voice rang out.

Bill froze as a figure appeared in the middle of the darkened room over the bowl. It was a man with dark, curly hair set far back on his balding scalp. He was old, with a bulbous, reddened nose indicative of heavy drinking. His lips were thin and set in a sneer. His uniform was a dark green color with a phoenix emblem.

"Do you recognize me, Harry?" the face said. Around the hall other people stared, stunned into silence. "You should. I'm your brother-in-law, or do you remember that? I found it funny that the wizard who defeated Khan and forced him to flee the planet ended up losing to a squib. Yes, Harry, a squib. The squib son of Antonius Greengrass. Do you know what the pureblood families did to squibs? Father forced me to drop my name to the Muggle-_ized_ Green and removed me from the family scrolls. Daphne and Astoria were obliviated. They never knew about their big brother who was shipped off to America. But I remembered. And I showed them all in the end."

Bill's hands clenched in fists and his eyes blurred.

"How do you like my pensieve, Harry?" Green made a grandiose gesture, sweeping his arm all about. "I designed it myself. I had no magic, but it turns out that pensieves are runic in nature. It is the user's power that activates them. So I was able to leave this one last message for the Forever Mage—the defeater of Voldemort, Hastriastus and Khan. The Lord of Light and Heir of the Four Founders. A gift, Harry, since I knew one way or the other you would return again. After all, you are the Lord of Light who died for our sins and was resurrected. You would most certainly be resurrected again."

The face disappeared, replaced by a figure standing in the middle of the floor. If not for the slight luminescence, she would have appeared perfectly solid and real. She wore casual robes. Her blonde hair hung limply over her shoulders while owlish gray eyes stared into space. She appeared to be in her forties and beautiful, though she could have been older.

"Luna," Bill whispered. He took a step forward.

She was swaying slightly, and Bill couldn't help but take a step toward her. He lifted a hand to her cheek, but of course there was nothing really there. "Luna, Lady Ravenclaw, do you have any last words for your husband?" Green's voice came from somewhere in the shadows.

"I love you, Harry." Her voice was clear and crisp. It filled him with a quiet joy, the first he had felt since waking. This was his wife. This was his Lady Ravenclaw.

A hand appeared in the vision as if from nowhere. It held a gun. There was no hesitation or pause. The moment the barrel leveled onto her temple, the gun fired. The sound of the report was shocking. People across the floor shrieked as the opposite side of Luna's head exploded in a spray of gore, only to have the gore disappear the moment it left the lip of the bowl.

Bill stumbled back and then bent over as if shot himself, a moan drifting from his lips.

"Susan, Lady Hufflepuff, do you have any last words for your husband?"

"Harry will come for us, you bastard!" a woman snarled back.

Harry looked up. It was Susan, his Lady Hufflepuff. Older, a little heavier, but even more beautiful because of it. A faceless figure was holding her in magical bracers. Green's taunting voice said from somewhere off to the side, "I've launched a nuclear missile at Hogwarts. Your children and five thousand refugees are there. Will your husband consign your children and the last members of wizarding kind to death in order to save you, or will he let you die to save them, and then suffer for his choice?"

Susan's shoulders slumped and she stopped fighting as she realized the truth. When the gun came up she turned and faced it so that the bullet went between her eyes to blow out the back of her head.

"Noooo," Bill moaned.

She was gone, replaced by another. "Hermione, Lady Gryffindor, do you have any last words for your husband?"

"You may win this battle, you pathetic worm, but Harry will win the war," Hermione spat. "You'll never destroy our world completely. I've made sure of it!"

Like Susan, she faced the gun that killed her. Bill fell to his knees as Ginny appeared, fighting and kicking and crying wildly in terror. Even older, she was still petite and gorgeous. There were no words exchanged this time. She cried as her executioner fired. Her scream died in a squeak of pain, followed by terrible silence. Her captor let her body fall lifelessly to the ground.

And then there was Daphne. No one held her. She stood of her own accord, chin lifted high despite the tears on her cheeks. "Daphne, Lady Slytherin and dearest sister. Do you have any last words for your husband?"

"Hecate will rend your soul for eternity for this," she said. "I will haunt you till the end of your days. There will never be peace for you."

"But there will be for you, dear sister," Green's voice said as he fired personally.

Silence followed as Daphne folded out of view. A moment later , Green stepped back into the memory. "And the best part of all this, Potter? I sent you those memories at Hogwarts. Somehow you stopped the attack. You were so powerful you single-handedly blocked a twenty megaton nuclear explosion and saved all your kind. All it cost was your soul. I could tell the moment you viewed the memories. I could hear you screaming from here. The whole world heard it, right before you killed yourself in the most powerful magical explosion since Atlantis. All those people at Hogwarts, all of those children, did not die by my hand." His smile looked like the grimace of death itself. "They died by yours.

"You killed your own children, Harry Potter. Not just that—you ended your own race. Your wives said you would win the war, but they were wrong. Even if you come back and see this, know that the war is long since lost. You are the last of your kind, Potter. I've made sure of it. I've slaughtered the whole of your race in the name of purity. Oh, the irony of it. You've been revived into a world where science is more powerful than magic. You're redundant. You're useless. And you are utterly alone. I've won. And every moment you suffer from now until your final death, I will continue to win. So good bye, Harry Potter. Enjoy your life."

Colonel Phillip Green, formerly Phillip Greengrass, faded away and suddenly the lights came back on.

* * *

Naomi had difficulty breathing. When the lights went out, she felt a wave of fear from all the people in the room. Then came the voice and image of Phillip Green, the most hated man in history.

She knew the moment she heard the name who Bill was.

She drifted toward Diana and the other ladies, who stood near Harry with confused, frightened expressions. They too could feel the agony pouring off him just as she could—they had all felt it the moment Bill had spotted the train. Naomi was certain now that he was remembering, and his memories were of a terrible past.

Then came the first woman in the middle of the floor. She was beautiful and ethereal, and she could tell from the moment Harry saw her that he loved her with all his soul. So could the ladies around her. When Green's voice called her Ravenclaw, Mary gasped.

The four deities, Noami remembered. Each of them had taken one. Mary had taken Ravenclaw.

Bill's moan of pain when the woman died brought tears and shouts of alarm not just from the ladies, but from everyone else in the room. Each woman who died was like a blow to Bill, pushing him back and finally to his knees. Five woman, just like the five that hovered near him now. Five women he loved, whom? Green described as his wives.

His kind.

Magic. Wizards. Fairy tale words being spoken as if they were fact by the most feared and hated man in history. She looked back at the wall where she had felt the most powerful spike of emotion and saw sticks.

Just like the stick in Susan's satchel.

Hundreds of thousands of sticks. His kind. Realization blossomed.

_One is a mutation. Thousands are a species_. "Oh my God," she whispered.

She turned her eyes back to the boy laying prostrate on the floor, shivering with a rage so great that even the women who loved him were afraid. The lights had come back on, and everyone in the room, easily a hundred people, were staring in captivated silence at Bill.

He sat up and Deanna shivered. His eyes were glowing a bright green. "Just like when we woke him," she heard Susan whisper nearby.

Final death. The Lord of Light who died for their sins and was resurrected. Christian symbolism but spoken by Green as if it were established fact. "Bill?" Diana asked.

"My name is Harry Potter," he said in a cold, dead voice.

That voice reverberated through the room like a gong, deepened by unimaginable power. He turned those terrifying eyes on Susan: no, on her satchel. He held out a hand and the wand she carried ripped through the fabric into his waiting hand. He then turned the other way, at the wall filled with the strange brooms.

Again he held out a hand. One of the brooms ripped free from his display case and flew across the room into his hand. Naomi turned back to Beverly and the four security guards surrounding her. There were tears in her eyes; she felt it too.

The rage that had poured out of Harry had gone from red hot to a deep, stunning cold just as powerful and much more terrifying. Ignoring the security officers and the women behind him, he pointed his wand at a far wall.

People instinctively began moving away from the direction he pointed the stick. _"Diffindo_," he said clearly.

Nearby Beverly and everyone else cried out in alarm as a massive pulse of light emerged from the stick and slammed into the outer wall with the power of a phaser cannon. The wall did not just crack or even explode. If vaporized to its component molecules in a shower of blackened steam, light and smoke. The resulting hole was large enough for their jitney to fly through.

"He's armed," one of the security officers shouted, at this point rather unnecessarily. Ignoring Beverly's cries to drop their weapons, both men raised their phasers and fired at Harry.

He looked at them with those flaring green eyes and a shield appeared in front of him, easily intercepting both phaser beams. He raised his stick and flicked it, sending both men careening against the wall behind Naomi.

"Harry!" Diana called in tears. "Please stop!"

Either he did not hear her, or he ignored her. He walked across the room toward the gaping hole. Terrified people scrambled out of his way and he made no sign of caring. He reached the end and looked down the ten stories. Already a crowd was gathering below, attracted by the explosion.

Naomi knew she should move. She should take control of the situation. However, she was filled with an almost elemental dread in her heart that paralyzed her. _Wizards. His kind._

Hundreds of thousands of…wands. It was the only word she could think of.

_His kind._

Green had done more than kill millions of victims of the nuclear horror. He had committed genocide. He had wiped out an entire race.

No, she corrected herself as the true impact of the facts hit. He had wiped out an entire species. Her species.

She looked back up. Diana was on her knees crying with her mother holding her, while Katherine, Susan and Mary were also holding each other. Harry did not look back as he put the broom stick between his legs.

It looked so strange. Like something out of an ancient Halloween movie. Until the broom lifted him off the floor. Without looking back, without hesitation, he exploded into the sky and they were all alone.

"Beverly, where are you!" the Prime Minister shouted over his wife's suddenly active communicator

"Jean Luc, I'm here," Beverly said. Her voice was hoarse with unshed tears. "We're going to need some help."

People started screaming again when a figure appeared once more in the bowl. It was the last wife, the one Green called Daphne. She stood flowing silver, looking around the floor until her eyes locked onto the five young women comforting each other. The cries of alarm grew even louder as the beautiful, ethereal figure stepped out of the bowl completely, moving smoothly across the floor as if she were alive, until she knelt down before Susan.

"You are the new Lady Slytherin," the ghost said. Her voice was sheathed in silver just as she was. The sound sparkled, as if coming through a filter of wind chimes. "You are my legacy. I chose to stay behind when the others did not, hoping I would someday see you. I haunted my brother until his end, but with my Harry's return, the Founder lines can continue."

Susan stood up, sobbing but chin held high. "I don't understand."

"It was in the book Ginny's granddaughter gave you," Daphne explained with such a sad, loving smile. "In the names you spoke. I can sense my own magic within you, and so you are the new Lady Slytherin." The ghost of Daphne turned to Katherine. "I sense Hermione's magic in you, brave one, and so you are the new Lady Gryffindor. You, child, look so much like my sister wife Ginny, but I sense Susan Bones' magic within you, and so you are Lady Hufflepuff. And in you, Mary, I sense the magic of my sister wife Luna, and so name you Lady Ravenclaw."

Naomi felt her lip trembling. "What about me?"

Daphne stood and drifted toward the oldest of the five, until she pressed a cold, billowing hand against her cheek. "You, in your own way, are the most important to Harry. While the others continue the magical lines entrusted within his magic, it was you he chose to continue his own family. You are Lady Potter. You are Ginevra's legacy." The ghost drifted back from them. "The wall behind you represents every witch and wizard my brother murdered. The wand picks the wizard, and Phillip collected each wand as a trophy. My wand is on that wall, as are the wands of all the wives of Harry Potter, the Heir of the Four Founders, Lord of Light, Defeater of Voldemort, Hastriastus and Khan, and most beloved husband. They will be your wands now. You will know which ones. Take them, and go to Harry. If he is to survive, he will need you."

She smiled at them all. "I bless you, my sisters. With all my love and the love of those who went before you, I bless you all. May Hecate and Magic keep you always."

With that, the ghostly image of Daphne Slytherin, neé Greengrass, faded into nothingness. Naomi looked over at Susan, who was weeping silently. The two of them shared a very long glance before they stepped together in a hug. In seconds another, then a fourth and finally a fifth pair of arms entered the circle.

"I guess this means we're sisters," Naomi finally said.

"Sister wives," Mary said. She too was weeping. "The notion should be ludicrous, but I just don't seem to mind. I love you all so much. Even you, Naomi, and I don't even know you."

"But we will," Susan promised.

Noami finally broke the hug first and walked to the wall. Museum staff members had made it into the room and were shepherding people out in as orderly a manner as possible. One of the officials saw her touch the wall display and jogged toward her. "Ma'am, you can't touch the display."

"It's not a display," Naomi said. "It's my legacy."

"Ma'am…" the curator said.

Naomi ignored her and laid a hand around the wand Harry was looking at so intensely earlier. It came away from the wall without any effort at all and sent sparks flying high into the air. The curator blinked in surprise, and then felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see the First Lady of Earth.

"These sticks belong to their people," Beverly explained to the flustered man. "These are wands. Green stole them from their forebears when he slaughtered them. They are not yours to keep."

Noami did not even hear the conversation. She stared at the wand in wonder before turning to the other girls. Katherine went next, drawn to one particular section of the wall. She placed her hand on one wand and like Naomi's it came away in a shower of sparks. Mary, Susan and Diana followed, each quickly finding their wand.

"You should find yours too, Beverly," Naomi said.

"That's not as important now as you five." She turned toward her security guards, who were picking themselves up without any apparent harm. She nodded one more time before calling her husband. "Jean Luc, this is Beverly again."

"What is happening there?" he demanded. "It's all over the info nets. My press secretary is having a heart attack."

"The most extraordinary thing I ever imagined," she said. "I've just learned that Colonel Green was not slaughtering the victims of World War III radiation, he was committing genocide on a hidden race of humans. And five of their last survivors are in this museum with me now. The last one is riding a broomstick somewhere."

"A broomstick?" A man unshakable in the face of even Borg invasions and exploding supernova stars sounded incredulous.

"Yes, Jean-Luc. I am standing in front of five of the last living witches, while their wizard is flying somewhere in a great deal of pain and confusion. And I would appreciate it if you could get some security to find him before he hurts himself."

* * *

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**Author's Note****s**:

I hope everyone had a happy New Year and a happy holiday. To hopefully increase your personal happiness, I present you with a chapter filled with pain. Those who are familiar with ST canon history probably saw something like this coming, especially with my reference to Khan at the beginning. While this is not the end of the story, it is the emotional climax of the first part and carries through the rest of story.

I would like to thank: TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel; Roosterman71; ColPinky; Firehedgehog; OrionTheHunter; Maloran; RexMyno; Gogolu; damon blade; JEKrug01; Skuert; Debbster21; Isis the Sphinx; Sir Trib The Bold; Crys; Jfitzgerald; cruailsama; Maximillian1; Neil; ffn notices; Manus Dei; Obsidius; kb0; Bobboky; immortal7; Midoriryu; rankokunalpha1; SomeGuyFawkes; Tremerid; Sam74au; Wonderbee31; Vyrexuviel; Pointer3109; imgonnadie; The Submarauder; Salamnder Hanzo; Cberbeta; Tilius; idlejim; kada7 and finally DragonFoxx. I appreciate all of your reviews and comments.

Q&A:

Q: Dude could that have been a death eater survivor thatg took deanna or an unspeakable?

A: No, there are no Death Eaters or Unspeakables left. As seen in this last Chapter, Green saw to that.

Q: Also, where exactly did Khan build his power base?

A: There is a series of Quasi-canon books by Greg Cox that detailed the Eugenics Wars. Personally he did such an outstanding job trying to meld true history and ST history that I basically think of those books as canon. He posits that Khan held most of his power centering in India, but that he was just one of several augments. So for the purpose of this story that's where his Empire began.

Q: Will there be any male magic users? Any creatures, etc....

A: I honestly can't answer without giving away plotpoints.

Q: I think that Naomi and the girls are Soul reincarnations of Harry's wives.

A: No, but good guess. In HP and the Four Founders, the girls did not assume the magic of their lines until after the bonds were confirmed with Harry. The magic was distinctive, and each received an increase in power because of it. Hermione BECAME Lady Gryffindor, Luna BECAME Lady Ravenclaw, etc. In this chapter I have the ghost of Daphne refer to feeling Hermione's magic...she is actually referring to the Gryffindor magic that Hermione came into as the matriarch of that line. There is no reincarnation of souls, only a reinfusion of old magic. That said, there is an echo of the original women in that magic, hence the dreams the girls had.

Thank you all again for reading. I truly and deeply appreciate it.


	15. On A Pale Broomstick

Author's Responses at the end:

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen: On a Pale Broomstick**

A non-descript man sat in a chair in the side-walk café sipping a latté with a touch of Klingon blood wine. It was an interesting and unexpectedly good combination he had discovered on Alpha Centauri years ago.

Around him Paris buzzed with early morning activity. The sky was already alive with shuttles, jitneys and aircars. The Eiffel Tower stood resplendent within view. Local city code ensured no building within five kilometers could be taller than the celebrated structure. And so in effect an historical district ran around the tower with a radius of five kilometers. However, on the edge of that line the behemoths started. Tower after glistening tower; pyramids, cylinders, cones and polygons of various descriptions rose up in a near solid wall around the tranquility and peace of old Paris except for a kilometer-wide corridor purposely left open along the line of the Palais de Chaillot and Avenue d'Eylau.

There were still portions of the city that retained the original charm. Those portions were the sections not obliterated in the Eugenics Wars or World War III. Though hundreds of years later, the portions of the city that had been rebuilt simply lost their historical value, and so those portions of the city were allowed to evolve and advance as the world around it did.

However, the café the gentleman sat at was six hundred years old with a perfect view down the corridor. The bricks were painstakingly cared for, replaced individually as they crumbled under the ravages of time. It was possible not one original brick remained, and yet the structure was unchanged from its original appearance in the seventeenth century.

The man wore ordinary, non-descript clothes. Gray slacks, smooth black shoes and a maroon-colored, short-sleeved shirt in acknowledgement of the coming heat of the summer day. He had no facial hair, did not wear a hat, nor did he sport any body decoration of any kind. A stranger walking by him would not be able to pick him out from a lineup.

A guest walked up to his bistro table and sat without invitation. Like the first gentleman, this other man was unremarkable. They appeared to be opposites sides of the same coin—the first man Caucasian, the second man African—but otherwise they could have been brothers.

"We had a development," the newcomer said.

"Oh?"

"Someone accessed the Harry Potter file. Our senior agent investigated and was forced to take action. However, there was a complication."

"Tell me."

"The person doing the investigating was Deanna Troi Riker, a department head at Starfleet Medical, wife of Rear Admiral William T. Riker, and good friend with Prime Minister Picard."

"Did Masters vaporize the body?"

"He chose not to kill her immediately. She is being held in a sensory pod at the moment. Should we kill her?"

"Absolutely," the first said. "Vaporize her."

There was a commotion and the two men both turned to look. Across the street one of the older buildings had a sheet of monofilm unrolled along one wall, on which they could see moving images. The image both could see showed a figure soaring through the air on what looked like a…broom? Behind him, a trail of dark clouds formed in his wake, as if he were ripping the skies themselves apart.

"In the Malleus' name," the dark-skinned man whispered.

The first man also stared dumbfounded a moment before he closed his jaw. "Tell Masters to keep her alive for now. We may need her as a bargaining chip. And I want a fighter on that broom now. Shoot that witch down. We've been waiting four hundred years for this day. We will not fail in this last, most important task."

"Yes, sir," the dark-skinned man said. He turned and ran back into the mingling crowds that had gathered to watch the odd sight.

The first man drained the last of his latté. The bottom of the cup was still red from the blood wine, which had settled along the bottom. He held the cup up until he got the last drop of the fermented blood and placed the cup and saucer back on the table.

* * *

Vice Admiral Kathryn Janeway sat at home sipping a cup of coffee. A book lay open on her lap and a small simulacrum fireplace threw warm orange light over her spacious but Spartan apartment. The wall just to the right of the fireplace showed an old pre-war romance movie. Kathryn never would have heard of it, except the years she spent with Tom Paris under her command taught her far more about Twenty Century twentieth-century? entertainment than she ever truly wanted to know.

It starred an old actor named Spenser Tracy, and a woman named Elizabeth Taylor as the daughter he was giving away in marriage. By her calculations the movie was easily over four hundred years old. And yet…

She realized toward the end of the movie that she was crying.

A news alert appeared in the lower right hand corner. "Computer, pause program, display news alert."

The movie stopped and shrank down to one corner while the news alert appeared. It showed what looked like a young man flying on some type of hoverbike, albeit it a smaller one than she had ever seen. "Audio on," she said.

"We have just learned that the young man was being accompanied to the museum by First Lady Beverly Picard, along with four young women and one of the young women's mothers. Witnesses say that after witnessing the message Colonel Green purportedly left to the young man, they were physically sick….?'

Janeway blinked stupidly. She reached for her com badge, which was on an end table not far from her. She slapped it. "Admiral Riker, this is Admiral Janeway, are you there?"

Riker's voice was hoarse and harried. "Admiral, I don't wish to be rude, but this is not a good time. Can I call you back?"

"Will, what's wrong?"

"Deanna has been abducted. Someone using Borg technology beamed her right out of Starfleet Medical."

"Oh no! Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Thank you, no. I'm already working the Fleet Command and civilian authorities. I'll let you know when I find anything."

"Will, could her disappearance be related to what's on the info net now?"

There was silence for several seconds. "It's possible," he finally admitted. "I've got to go now."

"Okay. Good luck, Will, and please ask if there is anything I can do."

"Riker out."

The connection ended abruptly. Kathryn found herself staring at the emotional face of an actor from another century and sympathized. Silently, in one corner of her mind that not even she dared visit often, she wondered when it was that everything went wrong for her. She then wondered how it could be wrong when she was one of the highest ranking officials in Starfleet Command. When she began her career she could never have even imagined making Vice Admiral.

And yet here she was, staring at an ancient movie with tears on her cheeks, wondering what went wrong.

The answer, of course, was so simple it stunned her.

It was wrong because she was alone.

* * *

Admiral Julian Bashir sat up in his bed, a book forgotten on his lap just like Kathryn's. Beside him, his wife of fourteen years leaned forward so that her long dark locks fell forward, allowing him to see the Trill marks that ran down her neck. On the wall opposite them they could see Bill Hogs, aka Harry Potter, soaring through a darkening sky on what looked like a broomstick with handles.

"Isn't that Deanna's patient?" Ezri asked.

"I wonder if her disappearance is connected," Bashir speculated aloud.

The wall chimed. "Julian," a pleasant woman's voice said, "you have a secure call coming in. Unfortunately I am unable to determine the origin of the call. The gentleman identifies himself as Sloan, and says it is urgent that he speak to you."

"Sloan?" Ezri whispered. "As in Section 31? I thought he died?"

"Computer, patch the call through to the bed receiver, please," Julian said. He lifted the small receiver and slipped over his ear. "This is Admiral Julian Bashir. Who is this?"

"My name is David Sloan," a rather ordinary-sounding voice said. "I believe you knew my father. I trust you are familiar with what has been happening on the info net?"

"I am. Are they related? Is this Section 31's doing?"

"That is why I am calling, Doctor. We need to meet. Your office. One hour. Come alone."

* * *

"Weather Service, this is Iberia local. What in the hell are you guys doing? We're receiving hurricane-force winds and ten feet swells."

* * *

"Weather Service, I need to report a water spout. No, two…Mon Dieu! Five water spouts off the coast, ten miles south of Brest. What are you people doing?"

* * *

"This is the Ocean Liner _Atlantis III_ requesting immediate assistance. We are receiving hurricane-force winds. Please reinitiate weather control immediately! The ship is in danger! Repeat, reinitiate weather control immediately! What are you fools doing up there?"

* * *

"Starfleet Command, this is Earth Weather Control declaring a Level II emergency. A local disturbance in the Atlantic Ocean has completely disrupted the network. We have lost control and need immediate assistance."

"Weather Control, this is Commander Paris of Starfleet Command. We are monitoring the situation. We stand ready to offer evacuation assistance if necessary. We are aware of the source of the disruption and are doing our best to bring it under control."

"If you know the source of the disruption then put a photon torp up its bloody ass, man! It's overloading our satellites."

"Hang in there, we're doing our best," Paris said.

Up in Space Dock, Commander Tom Paris relayed a series of commands to the sciences division for them to begin researching how to augment the shattered weather control system. He could see the line of clouds on the planet below from his office. It looked like an old clothes zipper opening up the ocean. Though it was invisible to the naked eye, he used the station sensors to zoom in with a precision and detail unheard of in any other time, until he could clearly see a young man riding a broomstick, ripping the skies open behind him.

There were two Earth constables flying behind the figure as escort, but without orders they weren't going to try and take any action. He backed the image up a little and saw a new craft coming toward the broom. It was a sleek and dangerous looking atmospheric craft, looking much like a Romulan fighter, except it was completely black.

"Starfleet Command to unmarked fighter at Coordinates 47.121978 by -7.778320, identify immediately."

The fighter did not respond. Instead, it made a bee-line toward the figure on the broom. It opened fire not with phasers, but disrupter cannons. The two civilian craft broke off, clearly outclassed.

The figure on the broom spun easily away from the green bursts of energy, but the fighter got right back on his tail.

"Commander Paris to Captain Straal."

"I'm reading you, Commander."

"Ma'am, the broomrider is under attack by an unmarked black fighter craft. Requesting permission to dispatch fighters."

"Denied, Commander. This is way outside our jurisdiction. I've contacted Earth Control. If they make a request for assistance, and only if they make such a request, will we intervene."

Tom ground his jaw. "Yes, Captain." He knew it was the right answer—tensions between Starfleet and Earth were uncomfortable at best.

* * *

Over the ocean below, this new sleek, dangerous-looking craft slid easily by the two civilian constables directly behind Harry. It fired without hesitation.

Harry ducked the first flash of disrupter fire. He barrel-rolled and shot down toward the ocean without losing any speed. He was going so fast that, at least within the atmosphere, the sleek fighter was hard-pressed to follow him. Still, that's exactly what it did.

Harry pulled up literally inches from the surface of the ocean. The fighter actually skimmed the surface trying to keep up. Still, it continued firing at the broom and rider. One shot actually struck dead on, only to be stopped when Harry turned and pointed his wand at it.

As quickly as he dove, Harry shot back up straight into the air. The fighter overshot at first, rolled and then followed after. The other civilian shuttles had actually fallen back as soon as the sleeker one opened fire, awaiting orders. Harry ascended at an astounding rate, but the fighter followed on the bristles of his broom.

Eventually Harry leveled out, and then a moment later he pulled his broom up to an abrupt and seemingly impossible stop. The stop was faster than the combat fighter could emulate. Paris and several thousand other curious spectators watching from Space Dock, and all those others watching via the info nets that were patched into the two civilian constable vehicles watched as Harry flicked his wand. Inexplicably, a sperm whale appeared just meters directly above the fighter and crashed into it. The forty-one thousand kilograms of the extinct animal hit the attacking shuttle with more than sufficient force to send both tumbling toward the ocean floor.

Paris suddenly chuckled. "Hello, ground. I wonder if you will be my friend." Then he shook his head. "What in the hell are you?"

* * *

Overhead, thunder cracked as clouds billowed around him in bouts of wild magic. Harry's hands were cold. His face was cold. He could feel ice on his cheeks. He didn't care. Nothing mattered any more, not even the fighter he sent tumbling to its destruction below.

_I love you, Harry._ He jerked in flight as the report of the gunshot sounded in his head.

All of them were dead. Not just dead. Murdered. _You killed your own children, Harry Potter._

It wasn't Colonel Green that killed the last wizards in England. It wasn't Voldemort or even Khan Noonien Singh. It was Harry Bloody Potter. The Boy Who Lived. The father who failed.

_Your own children_.

He stopped. The air around him roared as once again the two civilian constable shuttles soared past him. A third craft had joined in the moments after the attacker died—it had a symbol of an eye on it and bristled with cameras and sensors—probably a journalist. Harry didn't care, though. He rested on his broom, looking down at the distant, sparkling ocean below.

_I would die for you_. Harry felt the tears flowing. He would have died for all of them. Instead, they all died for him. And then he killed everyone else. He was utterly, completely alone.

The shuttles were circling back. Harry did not even see them anymore. He laid his head against his broom stick, and with a rage he had had no hope of ever controlling, poured his magic into it. The broom shot straight up with such power it left a trail of magical sparks. The charms struggled to fight the pull of gravity resulting from his sudden acceleration. He ignored the pressure and continued straight up, past the clouds.

He did not look up. He held onto the broom as if it were one of his wives. The air around him grew increasingly cold, but he did not care. He continued flying—the magic of his broom was not dependent upon air. He knew theoretically brooms could fly in space if the wizard survived somehow.

Breathing was becoming difficult, but he didn't care. The acceleration of the broom slowed not because of air pressure, but because of his magic faltering. It was becoming so hard to breathe. Just what he wanted.

Suddenly, as Harry stared into the deep, dark blue of a sky so close to the true freedom of space and gasped for air that was simply not there, he experienced a flash of memory. It was a simple memory of Hermione, perhaps thirty, sitting at the table in one of his old quidditch jerseys nursing a cup of coffee. That was it. But with it came a burst of overwhelming affection.

Other memories of his wives emerged in his mind.

He recalled watching Daphne lift a flap on her shirt to expose a swollen, creamy-white breast. He felt a welling of emotion that was not even remotely sexual. Rather, it was a feeling of such love it hurt. For Daphne next lifted their son from his bouncy chair—Harry's first born child—onto her lap and held her breast until the child could latch on. Little Antony James made fists against his mother's pure, soft skin as he drank.

The memory was like the torpedo that destroyed the wall that had held these last few memories back, and suddenly Harry found himself drowning in the emotions of his past life. He saw Luna walking into the Great Hall during her seventh year, Celena Alba Ravenclaw on her hip. She sat down in front of a group of second and third year students, happily whipped open her nursing shirt, and started feeding their daughter to the shock and consternation of the staff, and the adoration and worship of every boy at the table.

"Why, whatever did you think these were for in the first place?" she'd say to anyone silly enough to question why she was so happily breast feeding her child in front of everyone else.

He remembered the way Susan liked to wake him up by rubbing against him until she could feel the rise she got out of him, then she would laugh as she reached down and guided his manhood into her body for their first coupling of the day. Or years later the way all his children regardless of who their mothers were, would flock to Susan for story time.

He saw Ginny laying exhausted and sweaty in her bed, crying tears of joy as she held up Sirius Charlus Potter. She'd seen the name Charlus on the Black family tree, and though she knew Harry was not a descendent of the man, loved the name. And Harry loved her too much to argue about a mere name.

Suddenly he stood at the edge of a grave while he and Luna buried Celena, murdered not by a dark wizard, but by a genetically altered augment sent by Khan Noonian Singh. She was so very small when he found her. The poisoned dart did not leave a mark on her, and in a way that made it so much worse. She looked perfect—blonde locks falling around her tiny, angelic face. Her lips were slightly parted as if she wanted to tell him one of her mischievous secrets, which usually just involved her blowing in his ear and giggling. She looked as if she were about to open her eyes, but he could feel through their magic that she never would.

Luna stood beside him, her face a wretched mask of loss and grief, while the other wives tried so hard to console their sister spouse. But all Harry could see was this perfect little angel, with a lifetime of love and laughter she would never get to share with him.

Khan thought the death of Harry's first daughter would keep the most powerful wizard out of the Eugenics War. He would learn the folly of his arrogance. Augmented intelligence was one thing. The power of the Four Founders was another. With his wives and the international Order of the Phoenix at his side, Harry decimated Khan's muggle armies and left the tyrant's empire open to attack from the other Augment dictators. The Great Khan left the Earth one year later with his most loyal followers.

There was no peace, though. The wars that followed stunned everyone with their viciousness. It went on and on. Cities burned, people screamed out in rage for their pain, but no one listened. Then something happened in the last years of the war. The nuclear weapon strikes which had finally died down started again, but with specific targets.

The Ministry of Magic was hit by a bunker-busting tactical nuke. Diagon Alley followed. Every magical ministry around the world died. Only Hogwarts remained. Harry, the heir to the Four Founders and Lord Hogwarts, sent word out to the whole magical world to come to the castle. With the wards and castle's magic, he could resist even the most powerful explosives.

Hermione and his wives refused to come, though. "There are things we have to do before we can join you!" she told him. "Wait for us, though. We'll join you."

He waited and waited for them, but they never came. His children and grandchildren, those who were not still with his wives, asked about when their mums were going to come, but they never did.

Then came an owl; one of the last postage owls alive. She had a vial of memories attached to her leg. Harry placed them in the pensieve and watched as the orchestrator of genocide against wizard-kind murdered his wives, one by one.

The rage burned through his tattered occlumency shields. The pain and agony ripped away any hope for control. Without even realizing it, Harry screamed, both with his voice, and his magic. Wild, accidental magic surged through the school and completely overwhelmed the wards. He caught a brief glimpse of Hogwarts herself crying out to him in alarm before he completely lost control and everything ended.

Only to start again with four unfamiliar witches bringing him back to live it all over again. _You are utterly alone._

The familiar, terrible rage welled up within him and this time Harry did not fight. "I'm coming, my loves," he whispered. No sound came out—there was not enough air.

Suddenly his magic exploded around him, and Harry let go of the broom.

* * *

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**Author's Responses**

Wow. More than wow. I had more reviews for chapter fourteen than for any other chapter of an active story I've ever written. Enough in fact that it's passed my normal threshold of listing reviewers. So, instead of listing all the people who reviewed, I will instead just say a humbled and enthusiastic THANK YOU. I honestly did not expect such a warm welcome for this story, but I'm very glad to have been wrong.

**Questions and Answers:**

Q: How did Green kill all the wizards, its an obvious plot hole, etc etc.

A: While only one or two folks were not nice, several did have questions. This chapter gave a general overview of what happened. To the one nasty reviewer, I will try to remind him that a plot hole is an unresolved or unexplained plot element left at the end of the story. An unresolved or unexplained plot element in the middle of the story means that the story IS NOT DONE YET. Good grief. To those who asked nicely, I promise that we still had several chapters left and I will explain the history in more detail further on. Promise.

Q: But I have to wonder- how does Section 31 know about the magical world, and why would they want to keep it dead?

A: Hey, Natch, nice to have you reading. We got a hint of something in this chapter. More will follow.

Q: Sry if you already answered this but how come you didn't want the five current fiances to be the wives reincarnated?

A: That's like asking why I didn't make Harry's hair blue. It's a choice I made as the author of this story. That's the only answer I can give you.

Q: If Harry killed off their children and the last of magic kind in his grief, how can Harry's greatgrand-daughter ask anybody for anything? Are the girls gonna tell him that so Harry can remember what he really did to the last of his kind? Because I seriously doubt even maddend by grief Harry could ever hurt an innocent, especially his own children, they would be the last connectiton to his beloved wives. My thought is he made their magic sleep and then spread them around the world. Am I close?

A: Some of that was revealed in this chapter. Not all of his descendents were at Hogwarts. Harry doesn't think about that because, frankly, he's an emotional wreck. But as you saw in this last chapter, Harry lost all control. He did not intentionally hurt anyone. He simply lost all control for the first time since he came into his full power, and the results were horrific.

Q: Still capturing 5 wizards alive, without harry knowing until sent the memories to him all seems a bit 'god mode on' to me.

A: I will give more details as we go. But keep in mind I am adhering as close as possible to known Star Trek canon here, in which a significant portion of the worlds population died after 30 years of intermittent nuclear warfare. Whatever you might think about HP, you seem to be missing the ST history that is the basis for this fic. Doesn't mean you'll believe it--that I can't control. But that's the foundation I'm using for the fic. Again, more detail of what happened will follow. I estimate there are at least 8 more chapters to go.

Q: According to my high school biology two creatures are of the same speices if they are able to produce offspring who are also able to produce offspring indefinately through the generations, so wizards and witches can not qualify as a sperate speices, perhaps a sub-speices

A: I barely passed high school biology and so will gladly bow to your superior knowledge in this regard. I was actually referring to the genetic difference. The fact that they can reproduce with humans could be as much do to magic as compatible genetics. But in biology I'm the first to admit I know next to nothing.

Q: I do admit to being curious as to when green got a hold of Harry's Firebolt considering it would have been with him when he leveled Hogwarts.

A: Just FYI--that was not Harry's specific Firebolt. The events at the end of the story occurred after 30 years of war. Harry was in his fifties when he died the first time. That broom was a result of decades of additional craftsmanship.

Q: You know, after reading this chapter, I went to and watched "The Savage Curtain", an episode of classic Trek that featured an alien who was playing Colonel Green as part of a study of the nature of good and evil.

A: That episode was the basis for my physical description of Green.

Thank you all for reading and for all those wonderful reviews. I can't tell you all how happy I am that you are enjoying this story.


	16. Falling

Author's Responses at the end:

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen: Falling**

Alarms blared all around Space Dock. Ships in orbit altered their courses. Tom could see out the bottom of his window what the alarm was for. A billowing explosion ripped through the upper reaches of the atmosphere, pushing a cloud of atmospheric gas into the lowest reaches of the atmosphere.

"Captain Straal," Paris said into his com, "are you monitoring that explosion?"

"What is the altitude of the explosion?"

"Over twelve thousand meters."

"How far over?"

"It exceeds the Earth air space ceiling of 12,100 meters," Paris said. "Just barely. The explosion itself has reached into low orbit."

"Then it's our jurisdiction," Straal said in her clipped, Andorian manner.

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

"Son of a…!" The new jitney pilot pulled hard on the controls and sent the reporter inside tumbling toward the back. He could see through the windshields as the other shuttles that had been following the strange kid veered away as well.

Before the tumbling journalist shuttle came a ball of fire and plasma searing out faster than sound. Somehow, someway, the kid on the broomstick had simply exploded like a bomb. The shockwave of the explosion struck the jitney with lethal energy. Unlike the constable shuttles, the journalist jitney was not hardened against EM blasts. As soon as the outer edge of the shockwave hit, every control system on the jitney fried, all at once.

The pilot cried in pain as the exploding EPS conduits sent his whole chair ripping out of the floor paneling to fly back where the stunned report lay. The constable shuttles fared better, riding out the shockwave. One of the pilots saw the tumbling civilian jitney and sent an emergency message to Starfleet Control. The pilot and reporter were beamed quickly to safety while the jitney continued its uncontrolled descent. Only once the civilians were saved did the constables see the impossible.

The explosion had not obliterated the boy. He was falling boneless through the sky from twelve thousand meters.

Regardless of whatever else had happened, the constables responded with well-trained reflexes and an instinctual need to save lives. They formed up around the falling boy and tried doing emergency beam-outs with their systems. Even unconscious, somehow the boy was blocking that attempt. Next they tried using the shuttles themselves as a refining field to assist Starfleet Command, but even that did not work. It was as if the boy's body itself was resisting beam-out.

The boy was falling like a leaf, tumbling freely. He reached terminal velocity at just over 50 meters per second. His tumbling served to slow him some, but not much. From twelve thousand feet they had just under four minutes of free fall and that first minute was spent trying to beam the boy up.

Two Starfleet shuttles were dropping through the atmosphere to assist as well, but they would be just as ineffective.

It was Commander Paris, thinking of one of his wife's many hobbies, who thought of a parachute. "Captain Straal, we need a parachutist in the transporter room in one minute!"

It was a very good idea, but just the mechanics of getting the parachute on a qualified jumper precluded the possibility of it working. Paris watched in growing frustration as the tumbling body got closer and closer to the water. He watched as the constables and two Starfleet Shuttles had to break off because of the fast approaching water.

A chutist ran into the transporter room, but it was too late. Paris turned his head away just as Harry Potter struck the water after almost four minutes of freefall.

* * *

Harry was home. He opened his eyes and found himself in the common room of the Potter Tower at Hogwarts. It looked just like it did when he was young, just after he graduated and assumed the role of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He could see the five doors leading to each family's suite. The fire was roaring, while their runic-protected television had a Christmas program on.

He smiled even as he felt tears gathering in his eyes. "I'm home."

"You can't stay here."

He turned around and found Daphne Slytherin née Greengrass standing by the entrance. She looked beautiful in her dark slacks and white blouse. She wore her emerald ring and the Slytherin pendant he gave her. She wore her long hair pulled back from her ears but otherwise free.

"I've missed you so much," Harry said. He realized as he spoke that he was sobbing. "Even when I couldn't remember you, I think I missed you."

She nodded as she walked toward him, until she wrapped him in her arms. "Daphne," he whispered, "where are all the others?"

"Oh Harry," she whispered, "this isn't your home. This place is just an illusion. You could die, but then you really would fail. We all knew the end was coming—how could Hermione not have a plan? That plan was you, Harry. And while they all moved on, secure in your love, I chose to become a ghost. I haunted my brother until his last day, and then I remained, waiting for the day when you would come again." He saw a shadow of her wry humor. "Naturally you would come surrounded by five beautiful girls."

"I didn't…"

She shushed him with a finger. "You're doing what you were created to do, Harry," Daphne said. "You're doing what you must if magic is to survive. You are creating a new family. And they have my blessing, and if the others had joined me I know they would bless you as well. They are good women for you, Harry. Strong and smart, just what you need to make sure you don't do anything stupid. So much of our culture has died. There are no more Purebloods. Only Muggleborns. So you can start anew. Create new traditions."

"I don't know how," Harry confessed. "The magical world is completely gone."

"Not completely," Daphne said. "Remember, Harry. Hermione always had a plan. Look in the book."

"But it was burned!."

"Was it?"

Daphne stepped away. "I'm sorry, Love. My time has come. Everything I stayed on Earth to do I have done. I am tired. I am ready to move on."

"Please don't leave me," Harry whispered.

"I'm not, really," Daphne said with a sad smile. "My magic lives on through Susan Chamberlain, Harry. She will be your new Lady Slytherin. They all have wands, now. All they need is to know how to use them. Teach them, and any others you find. Protect them from the hammer's blow that awaits them."

"Daphne," Harry wept. "I love you."

"I know, Potter," she said with that Slytherin smirk. "And I love you. I have loved you for four centuries, and I will love you for another ten thousand. When at last you truly do come home, we will all be waiting for you."

* * *

"Well, this is interesting," Prime Minister Jean-Luc Picard said as he walked into the VIP waiting room of the Geneva General Medical Center flanked by his security and secretary.

He found his wife keeping company with five attractive young women, one older woman who looked to be the red-head's mother, and Beverly's own security guards.

"It's been an interesting couple of days," Beverly said dryly.

"Starfleet has been asking to get access to him," Jean-Luc said as he sat down. He turned to his aid and guards. "Thank you, may I have a few moments?"

The secretary looked slightly affronted but left with a nod. The security guards, including Beverly's two, broke into two parties to cover each entrance.

"So, introductions? Of course, I know you, Doctor Wildman."

"It's an honor to see you again, Jean-Luc," Naomi said. "May I introduce Susan Chamberlain, Katherine Dunningham, Mary Cavanaugh, Diana Boxing and her mother Carey?"

"A pleasure to meet you all," Jean-Luc said with a pleasant smile. "I'm still a little unclear on the individual circumstances, but I understand that all that is less important than the fact that Mr. Potter somehow survived a 12,000 meter freefall? What is his status?"

Beverly shook her head. "Broken bones and a concussion. If not for the events of the past two days, I would say it was impossible."

"His magic protected him," Diana said with absolute certainty.

Jean-Luc looked at her for a long time. "His magic?"

"Mr. Potter is a wizard," Beverly said. "I have a tricorder recording of some type of holographic message left by Colonel Phillip Green to Harry Potter, in which Colonel Green acknowledges the existence of witches and wizards, claims to be related to them by birth, and then claims credit for their eradication."

"Fascinating," Jean-Luc whispered. "And you five are?"

Naomi looked over the other four girls. They ceded the role of speaker to the eldest of their members. "We are, for lack of any better word, his wives."

The Prime Minister must have choked on something. He started coughing until his wife patted his back. "I see," he said delicately, once he stopped coughing. "How did your Auntie Kathryn take this news?"

"Not well," Naomi admitted. "It's hard to describe, Jean Luc."

"In scientific terms," Beverly said, "the five of them are dripping with anaphasic energy. We initially had difficulty identifying the energy field they generate, but once I met him for the first time, he reminded me of Ronin. So we tried programming the tricorder to detect anaphasic energy. It's such a rare energy type that we don't normally scan for it."

"Of course," Jean-Luc said. "And you think Ronin might have been related to them?"

"He might have been what was classically known as a ghost," Beverly said. "He's haunted the Howard women for centuries, from our origins in Scotland. And Scotland is where Mr. Potter was found."

Just then the physician stepped into the room. "Mr. Prime Minister," the man said in surprise. "An honor, sir. I didn't know you were here, though with Dr. Picard's presence I suppose I should have expected you."

"She does tend to drag me into her affairs on occasion," Jean-Luc said. "How is our patient?"

"Inexplicably alive," the doctor said. "At the altitude he fell from, he should have been suffering from hypothermia and hypoxia. He is suffering from neither. Every bone in his body should have broken upon impact, including his neck and spinal cord, with other severe internal trauma. Instead, we have broken extremities, a few broken ribs and a pierced lung. His brain should have suffered intense trauma. We can find none, though he is unconscious. If not for that energy field he is producing, we would have him completely healed. As it is, it will be two weeks before he is completely well."

"Only two weeks?" Beverly asked.

"He is healing at a vastly accelerated rate," the doctor said. "It appears to be an effect produced again by that energy field of his. I've never seen the like."

"May we see him?" Beverly asked.

"I don't see why not," the doctor said. "We took the liberty of placing him in the VIP suite. There is space."

The large group made their way through the hall of the hospital until they came to one of the VIP suites. Picard found himself looking at a young man with tousled black hair. His face was smooth-shaven, his eyes sunken with exhaustion and injury. Old-fashioned casts immobilized both legs and arms.

Other than a pair of sensors on his forehead, there was nothing else to indicate his poor health.

Instantly the five young ladies rushed to the bed, almost gasping with the need to be by him. They put their hands on him with varying expressions of concentration. "Beverly," Jean-Luc asked quietly.

She reached into her purse and removed the tricorder. "Look at the readings. They're pouring their own energy into him, and if this reading is right, it's having an effect."

Beside her, the attending physician started in shock when he looked at the wall monitor. "Mon Dieu," he whispered. "They're healing him!"

"So it seems," Jean-Luc said.

The young man's eyes opened and blazed for a moment with green light. The light faded quickly back into a normal hue and he blinked. He looked slowly from one face to the other, reaching out both hands to grasp all of theirs. "I'm sorry," he said in a hoarse voice.

"You should be," the young red-head said. Diana, if Jean-Luc remembered correctly. "You left us, Harry. You said you would take care of me. But you almost left us!"

"I'm sorry," he said again. He reached up and caressed her cheek. "Daphne was right. I can feel them in you. I can feel Susan Bones' magic in you."

Hesitantly, Diana pulled the wand from her pocket. "The ghost told me to take this."

"She was right," Harry said. "The wand chooses the witch. It's only right that Susan's wand should pick you. You would have loved her so much." His voice cracked.

Loathe to interfere but compelled to nonetheless, Jean Luc stepped to the bed. "Mr. Potter, my name is Jean-Luc Picard. I am the Prime Minister of Earth and Beverly's husband."

"Mr. Prime Minister," Harry said warily.

"I am here because Starfleet Command has requested custody of you. Evidently your display crossed the jurisdictional boundary into orbit. However, I am rather reluctant to hand you over without a better understanding of your specific circumstance. Can you tell me what is happening?"

"Three hundred and fifty years ago," Harry said, "Colonel Phillip Green used World War III to wipe out a society of magical beings that had co-existed with you since the beginning of civilization on this world. I was his last victim."

"You were?"

"I…" Harry paused. Sensing his need, Naomi and the others again placed their hands on him. Jean-Luc noticed his flush with interest. "Did Beverly tell you what Green did?"

"She mentioned him shooting young women."

"That was a pensieve. A magical means of preserving actual memory. Those were his personal memories of shooting my wives. He sent those memories to me at our last stronghold. The explosion…it is accidental magic. When I saw the women I loved murdered, I lost control. When the haze cleared, I realized that I had destroyed Hogwarts and killed all its inhabitants myself. I completed personally what Green had started. After that I…I willed myself to die. And I did."

"And yet here you are," Picard said.

Harry told Picard about his first death and rebirth; of the unique circumstances that ensured he had to die for a dark wizard to perish, and how he went to that death willingly for those he loved. "The horcrux provides an anchor to my soul," he explained. "And Hermione knew it. So she and Ginny performed a ritual on Ginny's youngest granddaughter, Margaret. It hid Margaret's magic. She was limited to just a few compulsion charms and that was it. But the effect of redirecting her magic was extremely long life. And so Margaret waited until she could find enough muggleborn witches to perform that rebirth ceremony again."

"That was us," Susan said. "I always thought she was a grandmother. We called her Grams."

"Margaret essentially tricked them into performing the ceremony," Harry explained. "And in so doing, she set the stage for our bonding. If not for the ceremony, they might have never bonded to me."

The young ladies started to protest, but Harry stopped them all. "Trust me on this," he said. "I've been through it before. The first time I was young and ignorant, but in the fifty years I spent with my wives, we studied our bonds and gained a better understanding of what they were."

"And what are they, Harry?" Beverly asked.

Harry held up a hand and green strands of energy flowed between his fingers on the edge of the cast. "I am a magical being. What you call anaphasic energy is integral to my very being. I was part of a society of millions who shared this magic. In my world, there was such a thing as love at first sight. Though rare, it did sometimes happen when a wizard's magic bonded to a witch's. Even if they did not know each other, if their magic was compatible, they would have almost no choice but to fall in love. Usually our magic adopted to whom we loved, reinforcing the existing bond. But sometimes with the truly powerful, magic could form bonds on its own. Those who resisted their magic were rarely happy. Divorce was almost unheard of, as were unions with non-magicals, and when it did happen the results were often tragic."

He slowly looked at the five women around him. "I was unique even among my kind, Mr. Prime Minister. I was an heir of both blood and magic to the four most important magical lines in Great Britain. They were known as the Founders. My magic compelled me to form four separate bonds with four separate witches to reinitiate the Founder's lines. I formed a fifth bond to continue my own family name. It was the only time it had ever happened that we know of, save for Merlin himself. My first wives were all familiar to me, and we all were already fond of each other. But our magic affected our emotions, and because of the bonds we were soon madly in love."

He took Diana's and Susan's hands. "When I woke up after being reborn, at that moment I was the strongest magical entity on this planet. I still am, for that matter. These four had latent magical cores that had never been awakened because they had never been around magic. When exposed to me, their cores woke up, and bonds started forming immediately."

"Are you affected by these bonds as they are?" Jean-Luc asked.

"Oh yes," Harry breathed. "I love them all. And they all love me. They have no choice, really. Their magic latched onto me as the only magical core available. The magic compels them to mate with me, to continue the lines. If it had been any other wizard, the result would have been similar. It is our magic that makes us love each other."

"It sounds almost as if you have no free will in the matter," Jean-Luc noted.

"It's not like that," Naomi said quickly. "It's…the bond fills me with such happiness, Jean Luc, that I don't want to be away from him. If there is a compulsion, it is a compulsion with only positive reinforcement. I've never, at any point, felt such joy as the first time we slept together. Physical, spiritual, magical. It was an absolute experience that I would never give up. The bond may have compelled my love, but now that I have it I don't want to ever give it up."

"And we haven't even had a chance to sleep with him yet," Susan pointed out.

Jean Luc turned to Carey Boxing. "And your take on this, madam?"

"He makes my daughter happy," Carey said with a timid smile. "I believe he is a good man."

"I have a question, though," Mary asked. "Why didn't you have any memories?"

"Because there were only four to perform the ceremony," Harry explained. "You provided enough power, combined with the spiritual energy of all the ghosts, to recreate this body. Margaret knew that in time my soul would return fully and my memories would reintegrate over time. Only an act of strong magic on my part could accelerate the process." He looked down. "When I saw them die again…"

Jean Luc watched as the young man cried, and then ground his teeth. "I still didn't have all my memories, but the emotional impact was there. Of seeing them die like that, and knowing that I loved them all. I could feel the bomb inside of me, and I had to get out. I was afraid if I stayed I would hurt somebody, and I couldn't stand that thought. There was a racing broom on the wall, so I took it and flew out. I would have just flown until the anger was gone, I think, except someone attacked me."

"And you dropped a whale on them," Beverly said.

Harry shrugged. "I liked Douglas Adams as a kid," he explained.

Jean Luc was apparently the only one who understood what he was talking about. "And then?"

"The anger came back, and I knew that I was losing control. So I flew up. I wasn't thinking about anything other than getting away from people. That's when all the memories came back. It started with just a memory of my first wife drinking coffee. It just always struck me. Then I remembered burying my oldest daughter. She wasn't even two yet. Khan had her killed."

"Khan?" Beverly said. "I don't understand. What does Khan have to do with anything?"

"Everything," Harry said. "You see, I'm the reason his Empire fell. I'm the reason World War III began, and I'm the reason Phillip Green was able to convince all the nations of the world to commit genocide. It's all my fault."

* * *

sp

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**Author's Responses**

First of all, thanks as always for all the reviews. As you can see, we have many more answers coming for what happened in the past.

**Questions and Answers**

Q: I think you should get an award for the best use of a sperm whale in fan fiction that I've yet read.

A: I gladly accept the Best Use of Sperm Whale Award. Thank you ;)

Q: Are Section 31 going to be the offshoot of some darker agency?

A: That will be directly addressed in the next chapter.

Q: Wizards are at most a sub-species of humans. Defined as freely interbreeding and creating fertile offspring with each other in their natural environment. Captivity doesn't count.

A: Freely admitted as a FUBAR on my part. Insufficient research. Thank you for the clarification.

Q: He refers to the broomrider as "that witch". So either assassin craft are going after more than just Harry (which of the girls may be crazy enough to jump on a broom?!), the speaker doesn't know the proper terminology, or it's religiously motivated ("suffer not a witch . . ." and who or what is "Malleus"?)

A: In the parlance of the speaker, "witch" is not gender specific. So there is a disconnect between Harry's world and the speaker's understanding of it. The details will come.

Q: I hope there is a sequel, and the second half of this chapter was amazing with "What I've Done" cranked to eleven.

A: If there is a sequel, it will not be a direct one. In fact, I've been trying to write one, but I can't tell you if it'll be finished or not.

Q: It's a bit puzzling that all those ghosts would sacrifice their essence in order to bring Harry back if he was the one responsible for the destruction of Hogwarts.

A: That is dependent on whether 1) they are vengeful spirits; and 2) they believe Harry did it on purpose. Fortunately, they aren't, and they don't. Instead, they recognize that Harry could single-handedly revive all of wizarding kind. So they sacrificed their existence for that hope.

Q: Does Kahn know about Julian and his enhancements and does he consider Julian a threat?

A: Khan has been dead for a while now.

Q: This is great but if I had 5 wives I was in loved and the were killed then killed my children in my greif their is no way I could go on with that lose and take 5 new wives and hope to be happy. If anything he should be trying to use his massive powers to turn back time to save his wives.

A: 1) Keep in mind that Harry woke with no memories. The bonds formed before he recalled his world. 2) There is no time travel in this fic. Time travel is a plot device that for the most part I don't like. It can be fun and useful, but I do not as a writer want to ever use it. Doesn't mean I won't because it's stupid to box myself in, but I'm going to resist it as mmuch as possible.

Well, thank you all again for reading and reviewing!


	17. Living History

Sorry this is late. No excuses, just got caught up in other things.

Arthur's Responses at the end:

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen: Living History**

Admiral Julian Bashir walked into his office in the middle of the night, tired but also buzzing with nervous energy.

During the height of the Dominion War, Bashir became an unwitting pawn to Section 31, a shadow organization that purportedly fought the enemies of the Federation that Starfleet could not or would not fight. In a way, they actually did help win it by producing a pathogen that almost killed the Dominion's changeling founders. But that act was so completely alien to the ethics and morals of the Federation that Bashir felt dirty just knowing about it.

His and Captain Sisko's later attempts to expose Section 31 all failed, which proved in Bashir's mind at least that Section 31 truly did have very powerful connections. Still, their one victory was the death of Luthor Sloan, the director of the organization.

He had not thought about them again in the years that followed, until tonight.

He took a seat and waited. It was not a long wait as a moment later green light flashed in the room and two figures appeared. Once was a man in his early thirties with sandy blond hair, high cheekbones and startling blue eyes. The second figure was a very, very familiar face. "Admiral Stonkin?"

The head of Starfleet Intelligence, Admiral Stonkin was a Tellarite, and even among her own people was considered something less than attractive. Her porcine snout was larger and hairier than normal for her people, and she stood easily as wide as two of Bashir.

She was also acutely intelligent and had a political acumen second to none. "I am not here, Doctor," she said. "The sensor log in this room has been deactivated. My own security will attest that I am in my office as we speak."

Bashir, not without his own acumen, merely nodded. "Very well. I take it this is about Deanna?"

"Doctor Riker was simply looking in the wrong place," the younger man said.

"You are Luthor Sloan's son," Bashir stated.

"And you killed him. Now that we've cleared that up, let's get back to business. Doctor Riker was abducted because she stumbled across the records of Harry Potter."

"And Harry Potter was the young man on the…"

"Broomstick, yes," Sloan said.

"And why would someone want to abduct Deanna for that?"

"Best guess," Sloan said, "would be information control. In fact, if not for the very well publicized fiasco this evening, I would suggest that Dr. Riker is dead. However, now that the information has been made public, there is no point in trying to control it. Instead, they will probably hold her in the hopes of winning a concession."

"Who are we talking about?" Bashir demanded.

"A piece of living history," Stonkin said. "What do you know about the history leading up to World War III?"

* * *

"Shortly after I defeated Voldemort, there was another very powerful dark wizard who came to power in India, named Hastriastus," Harry said. The ladies had pulled up seats around him, as did Jean Luc and Beverly. "He was working hand in hand with Khan, just like Grendelwald worked hand in hand with Hitler. He helped Khan subdue or enlist the air of India's magical community."

"I'm sorry," Jean Luc said, "you just made some very, very provocative statements. You are telling us that a wizard was behind Hitler and Khan?"

"Not that…er…you know, this is really uncomfortable." Harry glared at the casts on his arms. The cellulose melted away to expose his completely healed arms.

"Mr. Potter…" the physician started, only to stop when the leg casts melted away as well. Harry stood and looked around.

"_Accio_ Elder Wand!"

His wand came flying around a corner a second later, followed by a startled tech. "Something just flew out of….oh."

"Very good, thank you," Jean Luc said. He turned back around to see the young man spinning his wand and literally transforming his hospital gown into pants, a plain shirt, and a black robe of some kind.

"That's better," Harry said as he climbed back onto the hospital bed.

"Could we ever do something like that?" Diana whispered in awe.

"Oh, yeah," Harry assured her. "I learned clothes transfiguration in fourth year. Comes in really handy on laundry day or if anyone ever swipes your clothes at a swimming hole."

If not for the astounding display, Jean Luc would have been very impatient.

"Okay, sorry 'bout that. So, Grendelwald and Hastriastus. So, the thing is that there was an international set of statutes separating the magical world from the non-magical, or Muggle, world. But occasionally things happened in the Muggle world that were so big the implications bled over into the magical world. World War II was a good example. German and French magical families suffered during the first war, and when Hitler rose to power right before the second, the dark wizard Grendelwald used the opportunity to gather support. Like Hitler he wanted to 'purify' the magical community by wiping out all the Muggleborns."

"What are those?" Beverly asked.

Harry took Diana's hand. "These five lovely ladies are Muggleborns. Magical children of non-magical children. Although in actually Diana could be considered second-generation, since Mrs. Boxing is actually squib."

"Green used that word," Naomi said.

"That's the opposite of a Muggleborn," Harry explained. "Someone born to magical parents who themselves can't do magic. So here comes Grendelwald on the heels of Hitler. He secretly starts pulling Hitler's strings and is the reason Hitler attacked Russia, even though it was a stupid move and probably spelled the end of the Third Reich."

"Why would he do that to an ally?" Jean Luc asked.

"To kill Hitler, of course. Grendelwald was a Dark Wizard, entranced by the blackest of magics. He wanted a planet of wizards, with the only living muggles as slaves. But my friend Dumbledore defeated him in 1945, after the Muggle War in Germany was over but the wizarding war was still going strong. Hastriastus was similar, except I don't think he ever thought to betray Khan. Khan was egotistical and maniacal, but he was so much smarter than Hitler ever was and a very powerful leader. I think Hastriastus admired him, and used his magical forces to terrify Khan's enemies. So International Confederation of Wizards called me."

"How old were you?"

"Eighteen," Harry said. "But I was still the most powerful wizard in the world, so age didn't really matter. I had magical memories from the four founders themselves, and could perform magic few if anyone else could match. So here I am, eighteen, with a handful of British, American and German aurors, and we remove Hastriastus."

"We?" Naomi asked.

"Well, the aurors helped a little. Hastriastus had an army of about five hundred wizards, so they had something to occupy them while I took care of Hastriastus and his inner circle. Maybe eighty or so wizards. Khan noticed. And I think it scared him. He came to England personally to speak to me. He essentially told me to stay out of his way. He talked about how genetically superior he was even to wizards, and that if I tried to stop his conquest I would be crushed."

Harry looked down. "I was young and stupid. I didn't understand that the gods have bad aim, and occasionally miss the target of their ire. I went to the ICW and argued that we should take affirmative action to end the Eugenics Wars. That the war was starting to have a negative impact on the whole world. Khan heard about it from Hastriastus' few surviving people. He sent an assassin. Celena was only seventeen months old. She liked to pretend she had a secret and then just whisper noise in my ear. She was so beautiful."

Jean Luc could see the young man could not speak any more.

* * *

"And the whole world knew about this secret society?" Bashir said, stunned.

"The leadership of most nations knew," Sloan confirmed. "They were an entire shadow nation, operating side-by-side with the regular world. They had their own laws and culture and existed on every continent, in almost every country. However, they strictly adhered to their non-interference and the rest of the world did not consider them a threat, until Harry Potter."

"We're talking about an teenage boy," Bashir said.

"We're talking about the most powerful wizard to ever live," Sloan corrected. "And he has lived before. We don't understand the details, but evidently he has been resurrected from death before. Suffice it to say that though his body is young, his soul is not."

"Harry Potter started World War III," Stonkin said in her abrupt manner so typical of Tellarites.

* * *

"Harry," Naomi said softly. She gently caressed his cheek, and he leaned into the touch. "What did you do?"

"I went mad," Harry admitted. He looked at Jean Luc. "I have read about you, and about the Romulan you dealt with, Nero He lost his world and went mad in his grief. He had power in his ship and killed whole fleets in his quest for vengeance. Before that, he was just a miner."

"That's right," Picard said. "I lost a very dear friend when Ambassador Spock was pulled into the wormhole. And yet we saved all the neighboring systems."

"Imagine Nero's rage, coupled with my power," Harry said. "I went dark, I think. I can't even remember how much. And worst yet, the ones I depended on the most—my wives—were just as angry as I was. Luna came with me, plus Hermione and Daphne. Susan and Ginny stayed to take care of the other kids. We were joined by a few friends from the war against Voldemort and a few of the internationals I worked with against Hastriastus, and we attacked Khan's army. About a hundred of us, against the ten million men of his empire."

* * *

"It was the first time in modern warfare," Sloan said, "that saw modern military units go up against a magical force in an all out war. The results were terrifying."

"What do you mean?" Bashir said.

"During the final three months of Khan's reign," Stonkin said, "how many men did he have in his army?"

"Some obscene number," Bashir said. "Close to three million?"

"That's right," Stonkin said. "Before Potter and his small band attacked, he had ten million."

"Ten mil…." Bashir blinked. "And you're seriously trying to tell me that a hundred people somehow killed seven million?"

"I've seen the reports," Stonkin said. "From Khan's augmented military leadership. The best of his followers, who themselves were genetically augmented for strength and intelligence. They reported that the earth would open and swallow whole divisions. That the sky would rain spears of ice. That planes would literally be pulled down out of the air as if swatted like a bug. One report states that a fighter plane was actually pulled out of the air, swung around as if by a giant wire, and slammed into the fuel depot of the base where it took off from."

"There were reports of men killing each other," Sloan continued. "Of men seeing ghosts. Of actual dragons landing in the middle of a formation and spewing fire around them all. Khan kept all the reports confidential, of course, since he didn't want his many enemies to know how many men he was losing. But he was losing them at a stunning rate."

* * *

"And then one day I found Luna in one of the little villages where Khan's supporters fought the hardest. We had used concussive blasting spells to knock them out. When we entered, I saw Luna on her knees. When I walked to her, I saw what she was looking at. It was a little girl, maybe two or three years old. She was dead. And I'm pretty sure we're the ones who killed her."

Harry took a deep, shaky breath. "We stopped. Luna said she couldn't do it any more, and I couldn't either. None of us could. It was as if a red haze lifted and we truly appreciated just how many people we had killed. Millions. But it was too late. Khan was so weak he couldn't maintain his empire, and not much after that he fled the planet. The wars that followed led to the formation of the Eastern Coalition, which led to World War III. Our attack on Khan started toppling the dominos, until the last one fell back on us."

* * *

"Of course, World War III actually lasted almost thirty years," Sloan said. "It wasn't just one long running battle. It had lulls. It had periods of arms accumulation. But it also had elements never before seen, such as Colonel Green's Peacekeepers, which arose out of the eco-terrorist organization Greenpeace. For the first time, non-aligned powers had nuclear weapons. And those weapons started to fall."

"Green assumed a dictatorship over England and much of Europe," Stonkin continued. "From there he directed many of the later nuclear strikes that culminated with the end of the war. We have learned from his personal papers that he actually played both sides—the Western Alliance and the Eastern Coalition—and helped them target each other. In all the cases where he was involved, the target city had a large population of wizards."

* * *

"I didn't realize that Green was my brother-in-law until late in the war," Harry admitted. "But it doesn't really surprise me. Among the dark-aligned Pureblood families, squibs were a point of embarrassment. It wasn't unheard of for them to be euthanized. The Greengrass family was dark aligned. My marriage to Daphne was through the bond, but she was a thoroughly dark witch. And by dark I don't mean evil. But they did practice animal sacrifice and worshipped gods and goddesses that Christians would consider to be evil."

"So Green was actually evicted from the magical community?" Jean Luc said, enthralled with Harry's story.

"He was. He went to America. The first time I met him, he was the head of the militant arm of Greenpeace."

Jean Luc's face lit up. "Green's Peacekeepers."

"They were officially eco-terrorists," Harry said, "but I found it interesting how his targets all tended to be magical. Boston was the first American city destroyed in the war, and was the center of the American magical community. We were about ten years into the war when Hermione noticed the pattern. We all started scrambling to save what we could. There was just so much to do. So much already lost. Somehow Green managed to get census scrolls for each country. I don't know how, but using those scrolls he could identify each magical child as they were born. With Muggleborns, he would simply send a team in and have the child and the parents killed. With Magical families he had a harder time because by then the magical families were actively trying to hide."

Harry looked out the window of the hospital room. "It went on like that for twenty years. We tried to save the new muggleborn families, and Green tried to kill them. For every one child we saved, he killed five. When he uncovered a magical family, he bombed it. When he uncovered a magical community, he nuked it. That's what happened to London at the end. Either by treason or luck, he discovered exactly where the British magical government was. He discovered where Hogwarts was. He discovered where my family was."

* * *

"Green had tactical information on every magical community on Earth. History paints him as a madman, with random and inexplicable nuclear strikes against targets even within the borders of his own territory. But each strike was calculated. Even massed together, magicals could not defend against nuclear weapons, and so the whole population started decline," Sloan said.

* * *

"The ICW could no longer deny that they were being targeted. So I put out the word for them to come to Hogwarts. It was hard for them to travel, and dangerous. Still, five thousand of them made it." Harry's voice cracked. "My wives stayed out working to save our world while I gathered the witches and wizards left under my protection at Hogwarts. Mostly children sent by their parents in the hopes they would be safe. Green launched his last missile at me, and with the power of the castle wards and my own talent, I shielded the valley."

Picard coughed. "You're telling me you blocked a nuclear war head?"

Harry nodded. "But it wasn't enough. Green won the war. He found my wives. Found them, and murdered them."

* * *

"Green had five satellites and one aerial drone pointed at Hogwarts when Potter had his 'accident'," Sloan said. "Whatever else could be said about the man, Green was brilliant. He had shown that Potter had the power to block the most lethal weapons humanity possessed at the time, while possessing sufficient destructive power to inflict the same amount of damage on his enemies. Green then sent the word out to the remnant governments that survived the war with that imagery and reports of what Potter did to Khan. He couched his request in rhetoric about purging the impure for the public, but the surviving world leaders knew what he was doing. The world governments started a massive witch hunt like right out of the dark ages. It took two years, but without their governments or community centers, and with everyone in the world literally hunting them, eventually most if not all magicals were caught and shipped to Green for processing in England."

"Green's concentration camps," Bashir whispered. "You mean…"

"He was committing genocide of an entire race," Sloan confirmed. "The world went along willingly until it was done, then looked up, realized it had blood on its hands, and vilified Green for his viciousness. But Green wasn't done."

* * *

"The rest is just supposition," Harry said, "but Hermione did have a plan. It's a well known fact that magical children sometimes are born to non-magical parents. Usually these children display magic at an early age. However, this is because the world was permeated by magic. With his scrolls, Green could have hunted down and killed these children in infancy. But eventually, the last active magical beings would pass from the world. Those who came after, even if they had magical cores, would never have that exposure, and so their magic would lie dormant."

* * *

"Green feared a resurgence in the future," Sloan said. "Which brings us to what has happened. Before his death, Green commissioned an international organization he called the _Malleus Malificarum_, after an ancient text reputed to be useful for witch hunters during the Dark Ages. This organization was charged with keeping Green's intelligence files, and with ensuring that there would never be a resurgence of magic. But ultimately their goal was to guard against the eventual rebirth of Harry Potter."

Suddenly things started clicking into place. "I understand that Section 31 predates the Starfleet Charter."

Sloan nodded. "We were the ones who put Article 14, Section 31 into the charter," he admitted. "And we can trace our roots directly to the Malleus. Last night, when half of our active agents went missing, we realized the Malleus was still active. Section 31 has been seriously compromised, and it was for this reason that I went to Admiral Stonkin."

"Why are you telling me this?" Bashir said. "Why not Admiral Riker? Or better yet, Fleet Admiral Strein?"

"Because we have you listed as a potential asset," Sloan said. "And the Malleus knows that. You have access to Doctor Riker's records, you have seen Harry Potter personally, and you could get the names of those he has associated with. I am telling you because you and your family are at risk."

Bashir started to stand when Stonkin raised hand. "We have your home under surveillance. We also have the shield modulator that will prevent beam-outs. I will provide it to Riker's group through regular channels. In the meantime, you should get word to Potter and his associates that he is at risk."

"And what about Deanna?"

"We'll just have to wait and see," Sloan admitted. "I'm sorry, but so far we haven't been able to locate her yet."

"Remember, this conversation was confidential," Stonkin said. "I was not here and will officially deny any involvement.'

"Very well," Bashir said. He did not have a chance to speak any further when the two of them disappeared in a beam of green light.

* * *

"So what happens now?" Diana asked.

"I find out what Hermione had planned," Harry said. "I need that book, Susan. I think it may have a glamour on it. And I need to start teaching you magic. At least basic stunners and shields so you can protect yourselves. You should all be very, very powerful."

"Why is that?" Susan asked.

"We strengthen each other," Harry said. He suddenly blushed. "And, well, when our bonds are…er…consummated, you'll get even more powerful."

"So you're just all going to get together and have a love fest?" Beverly asked. "Is that what you did before?"

Now Harry was burning red. "Well, yeah, sometimes. Usually we worked on a schedule though."

"Worked?" Katherine asked archly.

"As good a word as any," Harry said. "I…I won't really get tired when I'm with you. It's something I learned the first time around. I can love you as much or as little as you need. It's wired into my magical core. If you want us all to be together, we can do that. If you want to be on a schedule, we can do that. Just know that…you'll probably get pregnant pretty fast."

"He's not joking," Naomi said.

Jean Luc stared. "You're pregnant?"

Naomi nodded mutely. "Just a couple of days, but yeah, I'm pregnant. And I was on full hormone treatment. It shouldn't have happened."

"We had pretty effective birth control spells," Harry said. "One hundred percent effective. Didn't work on me until after each wife had our first child. After that they worked. The whole point of my having some of the powers I do is to ensure that I continue the Founder's lines. So if you aren't ready for that," he looked at each of his ladies, "then we need to wait."

* * *

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**Author's Notes**: Well, thank you all for your reviews and feedback. I am running a little behind on real life issues so I'll skip my normal listing of reviews and instead just again say thank you all.

Questions/Comments (title changed as requested ;)

Q: I agree with another reviewer that time travel is the most logical choice....

A: I respect the opinion but simply put that is not the story I wrote. Besides, his changing his personal history would profoundly change ST canon history, and ST canon shows that there are entities whose sole existence is to police and maintain the sanctity of history. In their eyes, Captain Kirk was a criminal. But, regardless of rationale, that is simply not the story I wrote.

Q: By the way - the whale? That's from Douglas Adams not Pratchett. Still funny though.

On that same note: "You're going to catch a lot of stick for confusing Douglas Adams (one 'D'. note!) with Terry Pratchett."

And deservedly so. I'm still flabbergasted that I did that. That said, my beta JuniorMintJulep is a Star Trek expert and has never read Pratchett or Adams, so the blame falls solely on me.

A: Sadly enough--I had Adams originally, got confused and changed it to Pratchett. However, with your input and the input of half the reviewers (slaps head in shame) I went back and fixed it. Thank you.

Q: I did look up the Malleus reference. Did Green hook up with witch hunters?

A: Good checking. This chapter confirmed that very thing. Although he didn't hook up with witch hunters so much as became one himself, and took the name for the organization which he created.

Q: Tolotos German review---

A: I don't speak German, so I hope it is a nice review and not a message telling me to go kill myself with a butter knife and can of deodorant.

Q: Is he a vampire??

A: No, but that's an interesting guess. Blood wine is widely drunk throughout the Federation because of Klingon interaction.

Q: all i ask it that Kirk does not somehow apear and start screaming out Kahn.

A: Just because you said that, the Nexus will make an appearance and he'll come out screaming, "HAAAAARRRRRRYYYYY!" Er, or not. No Kirk, promise.

Q: but did Colonel Green actually commit Genocide or was that just in your fanfiction?

A: His group was responsible for 37 million deaths, and after the war he used the rational of saving the human genome from radiation-caused mutation to slaughter hundreds of thousands of radiation-sickened humans after the war itself. My take is pretty close to ST canon in that regard. the ST series Enterprise, in the first and last season that was any good, had a really good show about a follower of Green's philosophy trying to run aliens off Earth. If you watch any ST Enterprise at all, skip to the last season, which is the one the B and B twins did not have a chance to ruin.

Thank you all for the reviews and comments, especially the deserved whipping over the Pratchett/Adams confusion. I hope you continue to enjoy!


	18. Articles of Federation

Author's Notes at the end:

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen: Articles of Federation **

Will Riker paced his office with a scowl that sent all but Tom running for cover.

Tom, having worked several years under Admiral Janeway, was used to mercurial tempers and took it in stride. Moreover, this time he understood Admiral Riker's concern. "Commander," an ensign in communications said, "a signal came in. It was a thirty-second burst on subspace coming in from Vulcan."

"Undoubtedly it's been redirected through a whole bunch of nodes," Paris said. "Try tracing it anyway. In the meantime, please put it through."

It was an audio-visual communication, but there were no moving images. Instead, it was an image of Deanna Riker's face close up. She had dried blood on her chin and a darkened ring around one eye. Only when they saw her nostrils flair with breath did they realize this was a live feed.

"The Doctor is not feeling well," a voice said from an unidentified location. "She might begin to feel better if our demands are met. And our demands are simple. Give us Harry Potter. You have twenty-four hours to decide. If you decline, then Dr. Riker will die, and we will choose another to replace her."

The message ended abruptly. "It was an encrypted data burst," Tom said as communications forwarded the findings of their research. "There was no live feed for them to trace."

"Of course not," Riker muttered. "Where is Potter?"

"He is in Geneva, sir."

"Geneva? Why there?"

"The Prime Minister has granted Mr. Potter asylum under Earth law."

Riker ground his teeth. "This is not a local matter. What is Jean-Luc playing at?"

"I don't know, sir."

"Inform Captain Straal that I'm going to the surface. I need to have a talk with my old friend."

"Yes, Admiral."

It was dark in Geneva when Admiral Riker stepped off the transport pad. He was met by a pair of Starfleet security officers and Fleet Admiral Strein himself. Will's step stuttered. "Admiral Strein?"

"Admiral Riker," Strein said. The fleet admiral was a tall man, even taller than Riker, with thinning gray hair and very bright blue eyes. His voice was deep and dripped command. "Walk with me."

"Yes, sir."

The two left the pad and walked through the small campus that Starfleet maintained in the capital city of Earth. "I saw the transmission you received. I can't tell you how angry it made me to see your wife in that condition."

"Thank you, sir. I appreciate the help you've provided so far. I'm not sure why you are here, though."

"Things got complicated. I'm here along with Federation President Astrago. We've been meeting with Prime Minister Picard, his wife, Admiral Bashir of Medical, and Harry Potter.'

"Why, sir?"

"You'll find out."

They left the Starfleet pad and went by monotram to the Earth Capital, a compound comprised of two arc-shaped ten-story buildings encircling a large park. One building held Parliament, the other held the office of the Prime Minister. It was to that building the car flew them.

The two admirals and their security contingent were met by a set of dark-suited Terran guards and escorted to the lifts. Moments later they emerged on the top floor executive conference room that took up a good portion of the floor.

"Will!" Jean Luc Picard said as he stood up from the table. The man still looked vital and every inch the former Starfleet captain even at the age of eighty-seven. "How are you?"

"I've been better," Will admitted.

"I know," Jean-Luc said with open sympathy and his own grief. He and Deanna had also been very close while she served on the _Enterprise_. "Admiral Strein, thank you for being here as well. Please join us."

The two men walked to the table and snapped to attention as President Astrago stood to meet them. The Denobulan smiled broadly at them before returning to her seat. Will's eyes instant travelled to the other side of the table and the strange contingent that sat there.

The boy who had to be Harry Potter sat in the center of five beautiful young women, including Naomi Wildman. However, the seventh member of his party was a surprise. Beverly Picard was not sitting with her husband. She was sitting with Harry.

Bashir was there as well, looking around the table nervously.

"Now that everyone is here," Jean-Luc said, "I wish to be clear that our top priority is the safe recovery of Admiral Riker's wife, Deanna. However, I also understand that there are other considerations here. I would first like Admiral Bashir to describe his meeting."

Bashir told them all of his meeting with Section 31's Sloan. As promised he left out Starfleet Intelligence's role in the meeting. During Bashir's discussion, Will could see Harry Potter's expression darkening.

"So Green's Witch's Hammer group abducted your wife to try and force you to give me to them," Potter summarized.

Federation President Astrago cleared her throat. "My apologies, Witch's Hammer?"

"The literal translation of _Malleus Maleficarum_," Harry said. "It's fitting, really. Kramer and Sprenger, the two Inquisitors who wrote it in 1486, were both Squibs. Many of the worst of the inquisition against witches were performed by squibs, acting out the same rage that Green did."

"A dark period in Earth's history, Madame President," Jean Luc explained.

"And a foolish one," Harry said. "Very few if any real witches were ever caught, and those who were burned at the stake simply had to cast a charm to render the fire useless. There was one wizard, Wendolyn the Weird, who actually enjoyed being burned at the stake. He let himself get caught over forty times."

"Fascinating," Astrago said.

"This doesn't help get Deanna back," Riker said.

"Will, you don't understand," Jean Luc said. "Harry and his friends are not just mutations. They have presented evidence, irrefutable, that they were members of an entirely race of humans here on Earth. And the evidence strongly suggests that the governments of Earth participated in the genocide of this race."

Despite a lifetime of service in Starfleet, Will was not unfamiliar with Earth law. "You're talking reparations and war crime tribunals."

"Exactly," Picard said. "Though it was nearly four centuries prior, nonetheless this world is responsible for the elimination of Mr. Potter's people. We cannot undo what has been done, but we must acknowledge that a crime has been committed and do what we can to right that wrong.'

"This is a Terran affair," President Astrago said. "The crime occurred on Earth before the formation of the Federation. Even before human's first contact with life beyond your planet. The Federation has no jurisdiction at all."

"We can't turn Mr. Potter over to Starfleet," Jean Luc said. "We won't."

Will's stomach dropped. "Jean Luc, are you really telling me you would let Deanna, a woman who has been your friend for almost thirty years, die?"

"I'm saying that I will not compound what may be the greatest evil committed in human history by committing another evil," Picard said. "I'm sorry, Will. You can't imagine how difficult this is for me."

"We've scanned the entire planet, Jean Luc," Will said. "We can't find her."

From the other side, Harry said, "Admiral Riker, have you ever heard of scrying?"

"No," Riker said, perhaps too abruptly.

Harry looked at those around the table. "If I help, I want immunity from any type of possible prosecution."

"What are you talking about?" Admiral Strein asked.

"I'm a wizard," Harry said. "In a world that hasn't seen active magic in centuries. Your technology is not geared toward blocking magic, and I seriously doubt this group has the ability to cast wards. I can probably get her out. But if I help you, it will not just to recover your wife, Admiral Riker. It will be to remove a threat to my people."

"Your people consist of yourself and five young women," Admiral Bashir said.

"Actually…" Beverly began.

"Beverly apparently is even more talented than I thought," Jean Luc said with a fond smile. "Which is indeed saying something."

"It's possible there are thousands of us," Harry said. "Their magical cores have remained dormant because they were never exposed to magic. But that will change. I will change it. My very presence on this planet is changing it. I am powerful enough that even people on the other side of the planet will start having bouts of accidental magic in response to my magic. But I will not allow them or anyone else to be threatened by Malleus. And so if I go in to save Deanna, I will save her and remove the threat to us."

"You wish to kill them," Jean Luc said.

"Yes," Harry said.

"Neither the Federation or Earth advocates the death penalty," Jean Luc said.

"Penalty implies trial," Harry said. "They will not make it to trial. You won't even find the bodies."

There were uncomfortable shifts around the table. Even the women around Harry seemed a little concerned. Harry, though, continued looking at the officials across from him with a determined expression. Finally, he said, "Please do not mistake me for a child. I died for the second time in 2057. At that time, I was seventy six years old. I'll admit I don't feel my age—my body influences my behavior as much as my memories—I have fought in wars before. I have killed. I have been killed. I do not suggest death easily or lightly. However, I have also dealt with fanatics before. One who is truly fanatical for a cause would gladly give his or her life. And people who are willing to die for a cause are not willing to stop at the risk of imprisonment. Imprisonment is a badge of honor for that type of person. I will not allow this last remnant of what wiped out millions of wizards and witches to continue to exist in any form."

"Immunity from prosecution would be difficult," Picard said. "All Earth citizens are bound by law, and not even I as Prime Minister have the right to put one party above the law."

"Perhaps I can be of assistance," President Astrago said. She turned and studied Harry carefully for a moment. "I was not always a politician. Seventeen years ago, I was a Starfleet Captain. Like Jean-Luc and the Admirals you see around you, I fought in the Dominion War. The soldiers of the Dominion were known as Jem'Hadar. They viewed their commanders, the Founders, as Gods. They were genetically bred for nothing but war, and that is all they knew. Jem'Hadar did not surrender. The only way to defeat them was to destroy them utterly."

"Such is true with any true fanatics," Harry agreed.

"However, I am also familiar enough with Earth law to know that even their law enforcement officials are held accountable in the event of death. I do not believe immunity would be available to any citizen of Earth. However, a different set of rules apply to member species of the Federation."

"Madame President?" Riker asked.

"We are not human," Harry said, his eyes lightening up. "One of my wives once described us as Homo Magicus. We come from human stock and can even interbreed with humans, but then so can Betazoids."

"It is true that there is enough of a genetic gap that they could be classified as a separate species of hominid," Bashir said. "They are as genetically separate from us as we are from chimpanzees. The fact they can interbreed with us is a bit of a mystery."

"An interesting proposal," Jean Luc said. "And by registering them as a member species rather than a member planet, you are not forcing them to commit to any one location."

"What are the drawbacks?" Harry asked.

"You would no longer be citizens of Earth," Astrago said. "Which means that you are not eligible to partake in Earth government affairs, nor receive protection under Earth law as citizens. You would essentially become homeless."

"Madame President," Katherine Dunningham said hesitantly, "may I ask a question?"

"Of course, child."

"Could we petition the Federation Council for asylum as a member species?"

"And your name, child?" Astrago asked.

"Katherine Dunningham."

"Ahh, you were the one planning on entering Starfleet."

"At one point, yes, madam."

Astrago's grin crawled across her face in dimensions not possible for humans. "It is Starfleet's loss. Yes, as a species that has become endangered due to conflict, you may petition for and receive asylum, which includes where possible the settlement of a colony on any available world of your choosing."

"Moreover, as a member species," Jean Luc said, "you are eligible for diplomatic immunity from local law."

"And Article 14, Section 31 of the Starfleet Charter recognizes the occasional need for rules to be bent," Bashir finished.

"Of course, someone would have to be declared as the leader of your people," Astrago pointed out.

"At the time of my second death," Harry said, "I was the chief warlock of the British Wizengamut, the parliamentary body that oversaw wizarding England, and was the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards." He grinned. "I know the titles sound stupid, but they were valid. At the end, I was the elected or appointed leader of the wizarding world. In the absence of any other body, I retain those titles."

"This is all very interesting," Will said, "but what can this do to get Deanna back?"

"I will get her back," Harry said with absolute conviction. "I just don't want to have fight your whole planet in the process."

Astrago turned to Jean Luc. "Will Earth act as a sponsoring world?"

"We will, Madam President," Jean-Luc said.

Astrago tapped on her presidential com badge. "This is President Astrago. Lucy, are you available?"

"Yes, Madam."

"I need a petition drawn up for a new species to join the Federation as soon as possible. Please also include a petition for asylum."

"Yes, Madam. What is the name of the species?"

"Homo Magicus. The official representing the species is Harry Potter, Supreme Mugwump."

Lucy, on the other side of the connection, said nothing for a moment. "Very well, Madam."

"When it is ready, please beam it directly to this room."

A moment later two large bound books appeared. Harry blinked. "That's fast."

"The forms are standardized," Jean Luc explained. "Once the species name and representative name is entered, the form is generated instantly."

Harry stood and walked over to look at the two volumes. With one finger, he drew a rune on the cover of each. Everyone watched, entranced, as the odd shape glowed. Harry then held his hand over the cover and everyone fell silent as the ghostly images of words seemed to pour up out of the books and into the hand. Harry stood with his eyes closed, literally absorbing the contents of the books.

Finally, he nodded. "We can agree to this. In fact, it's very generous."

"What was that?" Bashir asked.

"That was cheating, as my former wife Hermione once called it," Harry said. "A method of transferring knowledge from books directly into the mind. During the height of my responsibilities I had more coming in than I could physically read, and so my wives invented this method to help. It is not recommended for normal reading as it requires mastery of a mental discipline known as occlumency. Even then, it gives a splitting headache."

He opened the book, removed his wand, and pointed it at each page that required a signature. His name appeared with a small flash. "This is a magically binding signature," he said. "This document has both the power of law and magic in it. Which means if I violate it, there will be repercussions to my power and health."

"And if we violate it?" Astrago asked.

"I thought it unwise to include any threats against your organization," Harry said. "It appears we are literally at your mercy."

The Federation President nodded in appreciation. She then removed an old fashioned ink-pen and went through the documents as well, signing in the appropriate spots. Both books were passed to Jean-Luc to sign as the sponsoring world and then to Admiral Strein as witness.

Finally, they were done. "Congratulations, Supreme Mugwump," Astrago said. "You are now a separate protected species with your own internal autonomy subject to the Articles of Federation. Once your population reaches a critical point, you will even be given representation on the council. Until that time, as the Sponsoring World, Earths' representative will also represent you."

"Thank you, Madam President," Harry said as he took her hand. He then turned to Will. "Do you have anything that belongs to her? I'll need something that she was particularly fond of but which can be destroyed."

Riker tapped his com badge. "Tom, are you still in the office?"

"Yes, sir."

"Please go into my office and find the box of Deanna's effects."

"I'm already there, sir."

"Beam it directly to me."

"It'll be there shortly, sir."

Riker turned to Harry. "What will you do?"

"I'll scry for her," Harry said. "There are different types of scrying dependent on the wizard's or witch's powers. The divination form is useless to me. I've never been a seer. However, the arithmantic form would work. Although I started late, I have a mastery in arithmancy."

"What is that?" Beverly asked.

"The manipulation of magical power through math," Harry said.

"Like how you can do so well in our thermal dynamics class when you knew bollocks about natural science," Susan realized.

"Your warp speed calculations are not so different from the calculations of spell creation," Harry said. "Math is the basic language of the universe and is used to describe all sorts of power, including magic."

The box of Deanna's affects arrived. With Harry's nod, Riker dug through until he removed a two-dimensional photograph. It included a younger Jean Luc, Beverly, Will Riker and several faces he did not recognize.

"This was her favorite picture," Will said.

"Then that should work." Harry took the picture and walked to a side table. The others stood and gathered around and watched as Harry started performing a dizzying array of movements. The passage of the tip of his wand left strange figures and numbers in its wake, as if he were drawing in the air itself.

Suddenly the picture, frame and all, glowed and disappeared, and in its place an oval shape appeared. "I've got her," Harry said. "I don't recognize the place."

Everyone else did, though. "Paris," Astrago said. "The capital of the Federation itself."

"Watch closely," Harry said. "I'm going to zoom in." He waved his hand and suddenly the image zoomed in to a series of warehouses, past the walls of a small, non-descript building, past the floor, and into a basement that had been configured into a command center. In one corner was an isolation pod, and in that pod they saw Deanna.

Harry started incanting in a language Jean Luc recognized as Greek, and suddenly the oval shape collapsed down into a tiny red speck at the end of a chain.

Harry picked up the chain. Slowly he turned to Jean Luc. "Mister Prime Minister, in accordance with the Articles of Federation, I hereby request permission to enter Earth jurisdiction in order to engage and neutralize a clear and present danger to my species."

"In accordance to the Articles of Federation, permission is hereby granted," Jean Luc said.

Harry looked at the young women. "Stay here, please," he said. "I need to know you're safe."

With that and a barely audible pop, he disappeared.

* * *

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**Author's Notes:**

First and foremost, thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing. I cannot express my gratitude enough. Once again I find myself pressed for time, though, so will skip the listing of reviewers. I hope you don't mind!

Now to the part nobody likes: Questions and Comments

Q: Bah, Greenpeace will never be a threat. They get their arse kicked, routinely, by the *French*!

A: I kid you know, it is part of ST cannon that an environmental group (never named) becomes involved in the war!

Q: Are you at least going to have an enemy that can provide a challenge to Harry's near infinite power? Or will this be a case of him finding the enemy and just whooping them until they regret being born?

A: I tried my very best to let everyone know this was a far different story from its predecessor. The conflict is one of the main differences. There isn't a lot of fighting in this story, not really. As Harry said in this chapter, this is a world without magic. Stafleet has no real defense against a Dumbledore, a VOldemort, or a Harry Potter. The thrust is mainly Harry discovering what happened, and trying to figure out a way to move forward.

Q: Luis3007 (not going to try paraphrasing to save space)

A: All I can say is that's just not going to happen. I have a very Utopian view of post Dominion War Star Trek. Gene Roddenberry created it as an ideal universe. Hopefully I will still be able to pull enough drama in to make the remaining chapters enjoyable.

Q: I have to admit the last few chapters were rather frustrating, as they didn't really seem to get anywhere. Almost like they were half chapters instead. However, I'm still reading, so that should say something.

A: A legitimate complaint. This story is backward facing while the forward progressing drama moves slowly. I can't promise it gets that much better, but I hope you continue to read anyway.


	19. Saving Deanna Riker

Author's Responses at the end:

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen: Saving Deanna Riker**

"Got secret."

Harry smiled down at his first-born daughter. She was only eighteen months old, but already she was speaking in complete sentences. Very short sentences, but technically complete.

"Tell me," Harry said as he lifted his little angel onto his lap. Nearby, Luna and Ginny were studying for their NEWTS while Charles and Antony, Hermione and Daphne's first born sons, played on the carpet. Or more accurately, Antony tried to play with his building blocks while Charles reached out a chubby fist and toppled it with a giggle.

"Stop it!" Antony would say, but never with any heat. He thought it was funny to see how high he could build the tower before his half-brother would knock it down. The baby was already giggling in anticipation.

Harry's attention was diverted back to his only daughter as she smiled brilliantly at him. So far Celina had six teeth. She would proudly exclaim that she had "sit steeth!" while holding up four fingers.

She leaned into his ear, giggling already for her joke. The anticipation was almost two much for the toddler, but she still managed to get her tiny lips to his ears, before she said, "Gagagababa balalalaieieieielwalala." She then collapsed in his arms in giggles.

"Tricked me again!" Harry declared. He punished her by blowing raspberries on her plump toddler tummy.

* * *

The Malleus had anti-apparition wards.

Harry was powerful enough to redirect his apparition to a safe spot on the boundary of the wards, though he could not stop his surprise. How could they have wards of any kind when there weren't wizards to cast them?

He cast a low-level detection charm, and the results were confusing. The charm revealed a very clearly delineated shield, but did not show any of the required runes to power it. In fact, the lattice of the wards looked almost like a technological shield, such as Starfleet used around its ships. He had studied some of the math behind those shields in his class.

It only took a moment for him to understand. The Malleus somehow adapted their shields to the frequency of his magic, just as Dr. Picard was able to detect their power. Anaphasic energy, she called it.

He placed a hand against the shield and felt a physical barrier. Not only would apparition not be possible, but it appeared walking was out of the question as well. Unless…

Harry never really studied Arithmancy or Ancient Runes in Hogwarts. Three of his wives did—Hermione, Luna and Daphne were all arithmancers and runes mistresses as their studies progressed. They were, as he told them very often, quite a bit smarter than he was. But none of them allowed him to be complacent, especially not with the world in the state it was. So Harry used what he knew from the memories he shared with Rowena Ravenclaw as a starting point, and began his own advanced studies in the subjects. Arithmancy literally was the art of controlling power through math. Only in this future world did he truly appreciate how universal those principals were. An arithmetic formula was not so very different from warp field dynamics.

He began casting arithmetic formulas over the shield itself, while he took a moment to carve two runes into the old pavement of the ground. In moments, an oval shape roughly his height began to shimmer in the shield, surrounded by a glowing red ribbon made of up tiny numbers.

Once the portal was shored up, Harry stepped through without a problem, and turned to face the warehouse. It was late, the sun had set hours ago, and the City of Light cast its glory into the night sky. Only Space Dock itself could be seen, since the stars could not compete.

Harry knew that somewhere in that warehouse was Doctor Deanna Riker, beloved wife of Admiral Riker, friend to his own newest spouse Naomi, and a genuinely good person who did not deserve what the Malleus was doing to her. He was going to get her out.

He had enough blood on his hands.

* * *

Luna and Celina walked to the quidditch pitch together. Though they were considered the "intellectual house," the Ravenclaws declared that Celina was their good luck charm ever since they beat Slytherin the first time Luna took the first true, sole heir of Ravenclaw to a match. Since then, barring illness, Celina went to every match, usually with her mother and father. However, Harry was still in Geneva meeting with the ICW regarding the threat posed to the world by Khan.

Hermione was teaching class, while of course Daphne and Susan were back in the family tower watching the other kids and conserving strength as they were both pregnant again.

Celina did not like to be carried by anyone other than her father, so Luna simply walked slowly to accommodate the toddler's slower steps. The young mother found herself staring down at this incredible gift and wondered how truly different her life had become.

When she arrived, Luna was friendless and despised at worst, and simply misunderstood at best. But then she met Harry—her wonderful, precious Harry—and everything in her life changed. From being despised and picked on for her first four years, to being revered her last three, Luna Lovegood's life was nothing like what she expected.

It was a million times better, and that summation of all that was good in her life walked by her side now, holding her hand and looking up at her with brilliant cerulean eyes. "Almost there, Mama?" the little girl asked in her high, piping voice.

"Almost there, Sweetie," Luna said. Indeed, the shadow of the pitch loomed in front of them.

Suddenly Celina stopped walked. She looked up at her mommy with a confused expression on her face. "Mama, sometin' bite. Ouchie."

Luna's world faded away, distilling down to a single moment and a single spot on her daughter's neck where she saw a black dart protruding, and a black line creeping out from it under her daughter's otherwise perfect skin.

Then a voice. "Master Khan warned you, witch."

Luna looked up, unable to speak. There was a man before her wearing a turban, with a muggle suit. He wore a thick beard, but he stood taller than anyone on the grounds, with a huge, muscular frame.

"Mama" Celina whimpered, before her hand slipped out of Luna's and the little girl folded onto the ground.

Luna could not move. Her wand remained tucked behind her ear as she collapsed to the ground with her only child. "What did you do?"

"A message to Harry Potter," the turbaned man said. "The Great Khan's affairs are for the Great Khan alone."

Suddenly Harry was there with an almost explosive pop. The school wards must have alerted him. Perhaps it was Hogwarts herself reaching out to Geneva to tell him that the heir of Ravenclaw was in trouble. But there he was, his eyes absorbing everything. He saw his only daughter on the ground, unmoving save for the hands of her mother cradling her. He saw Luna's expression of horror and grief.

He saw the smug expression of the muggle intruder who thanks to a charmed necklace had somehow snuck onto Hogwarts grounds.

"And now you know the price of interfering with the Great Khan," the man said to him.

Harry was shaking now as he understood. He could feel it—or worse yet—he could not feel the life and magic of his daughter. He _knew_ with chilling certainty that she was dead. That the poison in the dart could have killed a dozen people, much less one precious eighteen month old child.

The muggle was putting a tube to his lips, and Harry knew another dart was within it. A dart not for him, but for Luna. He heard people shouting in the distance as they realized something was wrong, but he didn't care. He raised a hand and screamed his rage.

The muggle dropped the tube and himself began screaming. At first, those around could not tell what was happening, until they saw the blood on the ground where his feet had been liquefied. Students and staff alike watched in horror as the assassin slowly, painfully died. His body dissolved, and from the way he screamed until his throat would allow him to scream no more, they knew he suffered like no muggle ever suffered under Voldemort.

* * *

There were at least fifty people in the building.

They appeared as pillars of blue under the revealing spell, while the rest of the warehouse appeared as a pale white backdrop. It was almost like infrared, only in this case the spell cast its version in the ultraviolet. Nonetheless, he could see the disposition of the men and how they were guarding his target.

He knew from the pendant, which itself was the transfigured scrying window, that Deanna was held in a pod of some kind. He would not have been surprised if the pod had capabilities that could harm her. These people seemed to have at least a rudimentary understanding of what he could do; it would make sense to take precautions.

He seriously considered summoning the pod right there and then, but the fear of it being rigged with explosives stopped him. Even if it wasn't rigged with a bomb, it was definitely possible that it could have other mechanisms to harm her.

So, it was going to be an infiltration. He had done it before.

* * *

Harry apparated silently and ducked behind a fuel truck. The summer evening had an unexpected chill—Saudi Arabia was a land of extremes, and the huge variances in temperature between the day and night was confusing Harry's internal thermometer.

In front of him he could see them—a squadron of the Great Khan's aircraft. Sukhoi S-37 fighters, Harry had learned. Experimental officially, but unofficially Khan controlled Russia with an iron fist, just as he did all of India. If not for the genetically enhanced tyrants of China and Africa, Khan might very well have controlled much of the world.

These particular fighters were carrying tactical nuclear warheads. They were scheduled to take off in the morning to strike at Geneva.

They were specifically going to target the International Confederation of Wizards.

"That them, then?" Neville whispered. Harry nodded and looked back at Neville, and behind him Ron. Both were his age, and neither showed any trace of the baby fat that had plagued them through school. They were men, both having undergone Auror and ICW peace keeper training. It was March 1999, three weeks since Celina died.

Harry knew other of his colleagues were spread around the air strip.

"Here come the pilots," Neville noticed.

Harry disillusioned himself and stepped out onto the tarmac as the six pilots emerged from the hangar. Air crews swarmed around the fighters, but Harry ignored them. He placed a marker charm on one pilot, and then saw five other similar charms appear on the others as his fellows selected their target.

As each pilot approached their fighter, the air seemed to whisper _"Imperio_". The pilots faltered for just the merest fraction of an instant before they continued toward their planes.

An hour later, two tactical nuclear weapons struck on Khan's Riyad forward command base, while the remaining four fighters were shot down. Because of the western front of his war, the forward command base had several hundred thousand soldiers ready for deployment along the Ethiopian front.

The first blow in Harry Potter's war against Khan had been struck.

* * *

Harry recognized the vehicle as an air car of some type, but beyond that he couldn't have named it, nor did he need to. He just needed something of sufficient size for his distraction. He flicked his wand and made the incantation, and where the air car once sat now stood an African elephant bull. Harry intended the beast to be angry when he cast the spell, and his transfigured beast met his criteria nicely.

He ran around to the back of the warehouse as the elephant charged the front with an angry trumpeting. Since the whole point of the distraction was not to be noticed, rather than blasting his way through the walls Harry once again created a runic portal to pass through the wall unnoticed.

However, he was in fact noticed immediately and immediately found himself rolling away from a barrage of green disruptor fire. He responded with three quick _Avada Kedavras_. Three soldiers fell dead to the ground without making any further sound.

Harry's perspective on the killing curse had changed over the years of war he had gone through in a previous life. While unforgivable in a civilian setting, the killing curse was the most efficient curse available to him during combat. It killed the enemy with a minimum expenditure of magical energy and ensured they would not be revived a moment later to once again endanger your life.

Harry emerged from behind a pillar in an attempt to see Deanna's pod. The moment he came into view he saw a ring of soldiers, and in their midst a single man in a white lab coat.

"Ahh, Mr. Potter," the man in white said. "You've made it. And quite the entrance. When we shot that elephant, we discovered a moment later we were shooting our own transportation. A remarkable illusion. However, the time for magic is over. Please lower your wand."

"And why would I do that?" Harry asked.

The man smiled without warmth or humor. "Doctor's Riker's pod is being deprived of oxygen even as we speak. The process started the moment you attempted to teleport through our shields, shields which operate with the same frequency as that in which anaphasic energy exists. You see, Mr. Potter, you are not the first of your kind we have been able to obtain for study. There have been several who have emerged over the centuries. They make fascinating subjects while alive, and even more fascinating subjects on the vivisection table. Now, lower your wand. Failure to do so, or any attempt to stop us, and she will die."

"Why are you doing this?" Harry demanded.

"Why, God told us so, of course," the white-clothed man said. "Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live."

"You mistranslated it, you ass. The people who wrote that were magical themselves. It actually says not to allow dark witches to live. You're violating the word of God."

"Sophistry," the white-clothed man said with a dismissive wave of the hand. "Rest assured, Mr. Potter, that we are quite safe from your spells. An anaphasic shield is in place not a foot in front of you. And as additional security, we have a cobalt device in the base of this building that could easily level all of Paris if necessary, so long as we can be sure you die. You are, after all, the most evil being to ever live."

"You should know I've joined the Federation," Harry said. "Wizard kind is now a protected species."

"We are not the Federation," the man said. "Drop the wand, now.'

Harry threw his hands up in disgust. A wand came flying down on the floor in front of them and hit with a wooden tinkle. "Let Doctor Riker go. I surrender.'

"I don't think so," the man said. "We will let Doctor Riker go when you are dead. Until then, she is our insurance. Kill him now."

Harry's eyes widened a moment. He seemed to blink for a moment as if trying to apparate, but of course he could not. Dozens of green Romulan-style disruptor beams slammed into his body, then through his body. He made a strangled scream before his body disappeared.

"That was oddly anticlimactic after so long," the white coat said. "Perhaps too much so. Do a full spectrum scan, specifically for anaphasic energy signatures."

The wand and body on the floor disappeared. Then the floor disappeared in an explosion of cement that sent the armed men and the one white-coat flying through the air. Stunned soldiers started to climb up, only to fall to the floor before a flash of green much brighter than those of disrupter blasts.

* * *

Karachi was the first and only time that Harry and the Order of the Phoenix found themselves fighting an actual battle. Three months of guerilla-style strikes had proven incredibly effective, but to truly strike the blow that would open the door to Khan's warded stronghold, they had to neutralize the wizards of Karachi.

One of the largest cities in the world, Karachi also boasted a large magical community that had been one of Hastriastus' most loyal areas. The wizards continued to provide support to Khan in the form of wards and even a Fidelius Charm over the tyrant's personal fortress.

In order to get through that ward, Harry had to find the Secret Keeper, and as far as they knew, that person was the Nazim of the magical community himself.

Thus on that day in June 1999, a month before his nineteenth birthday, Harry and the Order of the phoenix fought a mixed muggle and magical force of several tens of thousands.

The Pakistanis never had a chance.

That was the first time Harry truly understood his own power. Always before, even in the battle with Voldemort, Harry never had reason or need to completely let loose. But facing so many, targeted by a hail of bullets and curses, Harry unleashed the full depths of his power. His shields blocked everything. Those spells he could not block with magic he blocked with the screaming forms of Pakistani soldiers or other wizards. His companions concentrated on the muggles, disapparating around in constant shifts to prevent themselves from being targeted. The Pakistani wizards continually tried to raise anti-apparition wards, and Harry continued to tear them down.

At one point he thought to himself that it wasn't even remotely fair. He stood in the center of a wide boulevard, surrounded by shattered, burning buildings and shielding curse and hex fire from over a hundred other wizards—wizards whose faces betrayed the fear they felt. How could this one boy be so strong?

Harry delved deep into the war sorcery of his ancestors, and called down the elements. The wizards died by the hundreds while Harry's companions handled the muggles. The repercussions of that day would resound world-wide. Governments from Beijing to Washington stared at the reports with both shock and horror. A force of two hundred wizards destroyed a whole division of soldiers, supported by several hundred local wizards, in the course of a single day.

But when the day ended and the secret keeper cast the killing curse on himself rather than allowing Harry to rip it from his mind, all Harry felt was frustration and rage. He felt Luna join him, while Ron, Neville and the others did a last sweep of the area to make sure it was clear of enemy wizards.

Luna took his hand, and he felt something odd. He looked down and saw with a sense of shock that his hand was covered in blood, and so was hers. "Are we doing the right thing, Harry?" she asked.

"I don't know," he admitted. "But I won't let him kill any more children. Ever again."

Luna's face hardened. "Agreed."

* * *

Harry stood alone in the middle of the warehouse. Around him were bodies of dead Malleus soldiers. In front of him, wide-eyed with terror, sat the lab coat man. "You've consigned yourself to hell for this, Potter!" the man said. "The self-destruct has activated. All of Paris is going to die."

Harry raised his wand. "_Accio_ bomb!"

The floor heaved as the warhead burst up from the ground under the warehouse. The man in white stared at it in horror.

With a flick of his wand, Harry transfigured the bomb into a rock. "Are you going to release Doctor Riker?"

"She's already dead," the man said.

Harry didn't even bother to articulate the stunner that knocked white coat out. He turned and blasted the opening mechanism of the pod. The crack in the seal started whistling loudly as air escaped into the vacuum. When the whistling stopped, Harry banished the door and stepped forward to catch the pale doctor. Blood was running from her eyes, nose and ears from the vacuum.

He placed a hand on her chest and willed her heart to start beating. It did so and she took a deep, ragged breath. He left her on the ground and walked back to white coat. "_Enervate_," he said.

White Coat sat up with wide eyes. "Demon!" he screamed.

"Oh, you don't know the half of it," Harry said. "_Legillimens_!"

He found himself plunging into the man's well ordered mind and saw many of the cases he had referred to. There had been random muggleborns who in moments of duress displayed magic. The Malleus was always ready with the ancient magical scrolls and picked the terrified muggleborns up immediately, where they would be studied until they died, and then they were studied more.

That's how they determined the frequency of their anti-apparition shields. But they had never had a trained wizard before, and so truly had no idea what they were doing. The only thing that was clear, however, was their willingness to die in order to kill him.

But this was it. Though they had resources, they kept their numbers low to protect themselves and their anonymity. White coat was the last.

"Bill?" He looked away from white coat and saw Deanna struggling into a sitting position.

He looked back down at the pale, sweating white coat. "I know what to do," Harry finally said. He summoned all the bodies and shrank them, then shrank all the equipment in the warehouse until the only thing at its normal size was the transfigured rock and the scientist.

He pointed his wand at the man and started summoning his magic.

"Bill…Harry," Deanna said, "don't do this to yourself. To the ones you love."

"He will always be a threat to us, Deanna," Harry said.

"If you kill him, his blood will always be on your hands."

* * *

The town was called Khardon in the interior of India. It was another of Khan's strongholds, but this time the tyrant placed his garrison in the middle of the town. The civilians threw themselves at the "Son of Kali" as they called Harry.

They died, like all the others. Like the soldiers who flung bullets and missiles and the wizards who flung their spells. They all died, and in the aftermath, Harry walked down the boulevard of a shattered town.

He saw Luna off to the side of the street, while others of the Order continued to search the town for any clues that might lead to Khan's Fidelius-hidden palace. So far, it didn't look any better than all the other strongholds they destroyed.

He felt a stab of pain through his bond, coupled with anguish and guilt. He ran toward Luna, knowing for certain that something was terribly wrong. When he found her, her face was mottled with tears.

She was holding a little girl. The child's face was beautiful and pure, her black hair loose down her back. From the waist up she was beautiful and perfect. But from the waist down—it had been a blasting curse. The curse blew off one of the little girl's legs entirely, and mangled the other beyond recognition.

The shock killed her.

Luna looked up at him, her face warped by pain. "I can't do this anymore," she whispered. "We've killed so many people, Harry. But Celina still isn't here. I still can't hold her."

Harry knelt down beside his wife and looked at the little girl. There was a very good chance that he was the one who had killed her.

He had killed an innocent, and most likely her entire family.

A wave of fatigue swept over him. It was more than just physical exhaustion—it was a fatigue of his very soul. He was so tired he could no longer even grieve. He fell back on his rear and simply sat that beside his wife.

"I can't do it either," he whispered. He felt his breath catch in his throat as his own grief welled up. "I don't know what to do."

Luna took his hand. "We go home to Hogwarts," Luna whispered. "And we leave this death behind us."

Harry was aware of others of his party coming up behind him. Since the war began they had lost two British aurors and an American. Otherwise they suffered no casualties despite killing millions. But even though every encounter was a victory, he could see exhaustion in the faces. Exhaustion and horror.

"We can't do it anymore," Harry told them all. "But I can't decide on my own. It needs to be a vote."

"There's no need for a vote, mate," Ron Weasley said. His face was drawn with exhaustion. "It's time to go home."

Harry looked at every face; he knew them all by name. For the last few months they had lived as a single unit. They were the family in place of those he left in England, and he saw in their eyes that they were done.

"It's time to go home," Harry said at last.

* * *

"He's never going to stop," Harry told Deanna. "He's going to keep coming after us until one of us is dead. And I won't let him ever kill those I love. I can't."

Deanna shakily got to her legs. She wiped some of the blood from her face with the back of her hands. She stepped toward him. "Harry, I can feel the anguish in you. I can't say I know what happened that brought your memories back, but I can tell you that this is a new world for you. A new life. Please, Harry, don't start it off with cold blooded murder."

"It's not murder," Harry said, "its justice."

"Not anymore," Deanna said. "This is a new world for you, Harry. Don't let the opportunity pass you by. Please."

"He hurt you."

"And he will be punished," she said. "By the authority of the Federation. Harry, I can feel that you don't want to do this. You think you have to, but you don't. Please don't."

Harry lowered his wand. "I won't let him hurt my family, ever."

"I know," Deanna said. "Let's go, Harry. I'm sure Naomi is waiting for you."

Harry nodded and the two started toward the door.

"He's not going to let us go," Harry predicted.

"Harry?" Deanna asked.

"He won't let us go while he lives."

"Potterrrrr!" White Coat screamed.

The wizard pushed Deanna to the side while raising his wand. The disrupter blasts struck against his wandless shield. Harry responded not with the green of a killing curse, but the red light of transfiguration.

Deanna blinked, shocked. "Harry…"

"The man was an ass, and now he'll live the rest of his life as one."

And, true to his word, the only standing creature in the room was an ass.

* * *

sp

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**Author's Responses/Comments**

Well, all I can say is wow. The last chapter again said a personal active chapter review record for me. This story has achieved far more reviews than I ever thought it would, and I cannot thank you all enough for the comments and support.

So, we'll get right down to it: Questions and Answers

Q: I've got to say that when you wrote that Green committed genocide against one species did you forget about ;

A: Remember the perspective of the character thinking about genocide. Those characters did not know about the other aspects of the magical world, and Harry for his part was a bit...well, he was understandably self-absorbed.

Q: Is this going to be a long story like..say 30-40 chapters? or less?

A: It is going to be less. In fact, after this chapter I believe we only have four chapters left. I originally stated the story had twenty-four chapters, but I consolidated two of those chapters, so it will end on Chap 23.

Q: I do have have a question did all the magical creatures die during the war and are you going to cover where they went.

A: Yes, I cover that very specifically.

Q: I am curious though, will Hogwarts be rebuilt?...

A: That will be directly addressed in the last four chapters. Promise.

Q: Any chance the Chamber of Secrets survived?

A: Sadly, no. But there is hope.

Q: With the active role of Beverly Picard, I say Wes belongs in here even more.

A: Yeah, I'll admit that was one thing I did regret--I really should have worked Wesley in somehow. It's just...damn I hated his character. I wanted to just beat him up.

Q: Wendeline the Weird was a witch...

A: Oops.

Thank you all again for reading and reviewing. Several questions were actually answered in this chapter so I didn't respond. Just four more chapters to go!


	20. Homo Magicus

**Author's Responses at the end:**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty: Homo Magicus**

"He was kind of scary, I suppose," Diana said. "But you know, it made me feel good too! I knew that he would never be scary to me; that he'd always be there to protect me."

Around her, her friends and new sisters nodded in agreement. "Naomi," Katherine asked, "what did it feel like? Did it hurt at all?"

Naomi eyed the other ladies with a smile. "No, and truthfully that's not the way it normally works. But we all know Harry can heal with his touch. I guess it doesn't matter what he's touching you with."

The others laughed, and Naomi could hear a sense of longing in the sound. Even with Harry's warning about pregnancy, she could see that all of them were more than ready.

"Do you…do you think we are going to get married?" Diana asked.

"I don't know," Naomi asked. "Frankly it's not come up."

"You didn't wait," Susan said.

"No, I didn't," Naomi agreed. "I suppose as the oldest I should be the one to tell you that it wasn't worth it; that you should wait…"

"But then you'd be lying," Katherine said.

"Yes," Naomi agreed with a happy grin. "It was the single most incredible experience I've had, and I wouldn't trade it for anything."

"Do you think he's okay?" Mary asked.

"We'd know if he wasn't," Diana said.

The five of them sat in a spacious sitting room that formed the hub in a suite of five rooms that took up the top floor of a motel in Geneva. They were officially guests of the Prime Minister of Earth.

Naomi was the first to look at the door. Diana rose out of her seat. "I feel him," the youngest of them whispered.

The door finally opened and the rest jumped to their feet when Harry walked in. He looked tired, as if he'd been up the entire night. As tired as he obviously was, though, his whole face lit up when he saw the ring of women waiting for him. He stopped just inside the door, his face lit up. "My gods you're beautiful," he whispered. "All of you."

"Did you save Deanna?" Noami asked.

Harry nodded as he continued into the room. "I did. The Malleus is gone. We're safe now."

The five women drifted toward him, one at a time, until they surrounded him. "What are we going to do now?" Diana asked.

Harry grinned and leaned down, pulling her into a long, sensual kiss. The others watched spell-bound. When at last he released her, her face was flushed a brilliant red and her lips were trembling. "That depends on you," he said. He looked around them, staring them in the eyes. "I remember everything now. I remember how very much I loved my wives. And I know now why all of you felt so familiar, even from the first time I saw you. Their magic is with us now in each of you."

"Does that mean you couldn't love us if not for them?" Susan asked.

Harry pulled her to him and kissed her as deeply as Diana. When they parted, she was panting as surely as he was. "The idea that I could ever move on from those five women would have been impossible to me before," Harry said. "But when I was flying… I saw Daphne. She told me that we were starting over. That they were watching us. That they loved us. Loved you. I couldn't do this if I didn't know that for sure."

"Do what, Harry?" Mary asked.

She was his next victim and went with a giggle as he snogged her senseless. "Marry you," he said. "I want you to be my wives. We're going to restart the wizarding world. We're going to find all the latent wizards there are. We're going to find out just what Hermione and the others were doing while I was gathering people at Hogwarts. But mostly I'm going to love each and every one of you with everything I have. If you'll have me."

Diana sounded almost like a squealing rabbit as she jumped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. "I'd have you right now if you wanted!" she screamed.

"Think you could wait a day 'til we're married?"

"Only if we get married fast!" Diana declared.

"Would tomorrow do?" Harry asked.

* * *

"It has been a while since I performed a wedding ceremony," Jean Luc said. "I would be honored."

"And the fact this keeps you out of that budget meeting you had scheduled today has no bearing on how happy you are to do it?" Beverly asked.

"You said it, not me," Jean Luc said with a smug grin. "So, Mr. Potter, how exactly did you want to do this?"

Harry handed him a PADD. "I wrote down the ceremony as best I could remember it. Since you're not a priest of Hecate, Susan and I will have to have a normal wizarding wedding like the rest. But otherwise you can do the whole ceremony."

Jean Luc looked over the wording. "Interesting. Do you have any dress requirements?"

"I'll take care of that. But it would be better to do it sooner rather than later. We've confirmed the betrothal bonds and the effects get worse over time."

"And you need to do them one at a time?"

"It was the requirement of our laws," Harry said. "Polygamy wasn't exactly normal even for wizard kind. I could only do it because under Wizarding law I was five separate people. So technically we have to have five separate ceremonies."

"Then we shall have a very interesting afternoon," Jean Luc said. "I should warn you, though, Mr. Potter. You've become something of a celebrity. Do not be surprised if the media show up."

The morning was spent in a frenzy of preparation. If not for Beverly Picard's staff, it would not have happened. However, the First Lady was very succinct in her demands. "They're getting married and we're going to be there. Use your imagination and make it happen."

And so the staff of the First Lady begged, cajoled and outright demanded cooperation from providers around the city, while also raising a media storm. And yet, somehow, it all came together, and that afternoon Harry, Noami, Susan, Katherine, Mary and Diana stood in an ancient St. Peter's Cathedral in Geneva.

They had an unusual and rather dignified list of guests.

First and foremost was Federation President Astri Astrago and her staff. Vice Admiral Kathryn Janeway attended with Rear Admirals Will Riker and Julian Bashir, both accompanied by their wives Deanna and Ezri. Additionally, the ladies' parents attended as well, though the Dunninghams still did not look entirely happy. However, Marilyn Dunningham had her hair back thanks to Harry's wand work. The Caraoughs and Chamberlains looked a little confused but generally accepting.

Carey Boxing was weeping but otherwise very happy.

Janeway's expression was blank at best. Still, she made no move to interrupt the ceremonies.

What was truly different were the reporters there. "Harry," Naomi pointed out, "you've just been declared the head of a previously unknown human subspecies, you've confirmed the existence of magic, you've rewritten Earth history, you have the president of the Federation as a guest and the Prime Minister of Earth is doing your ceremony. Did you honestly think there wouldn't be reporters here?"

He grinned at her. "I haven't had much luck with reporters in my life," he told her.

"It's a new life," she whispered. "Now go away so I can try on this dress you made. How did you do this again?"

"Permanent transfiguration."

"Well, you did a remarkable job."

When the time came, Naomi walked down the aisle in a cream-colored off-the-shoulder dress accompanied by the other four girls. Each of the girls wore a crimson maid's dress. Due to a limited selection of friends, Harry had Kirk O'Brian stand as his best man. Riker seemed to take offense at that, though, and a moment later he and Commander Paris joined him.

"You saved my wife," Riker said to Harry simply.

"And he hates asymmetry," Paris added.

Bashir, noting there were still only three men by Harry where as Naomi would have four maids, finally stood himself and joined them. "There, that's better," the head of Starfleet Medical said with a sharp nod.

Harry grinned at them all. "Thank you," he said. "You know I'm doing this four more times, right?"

"It'll be four times the party afterward," Bashir said.

Noami arrived. She looked absolutely beautiful, almost luminous.

"In my eighty-seven years, I have seen many things," Jean-Luc began between the two. "I have met legends out of history before—captains who through fate lived beyond their generation. I have met god-like beings and have seen beauty beyond description. And so frankly it should not surprise me to find that magic is real, and that wizards and witches have lived among us for these many centuries past."

Those assembled chuckled at the prime minister's wry humor.

"Magic comes in many forms," he said. "But the truest magic is not an application of power. It comes in the way the smile of a loved one can move your soul. It comes in the form of new life given birth from loving parents. And it comes before us today in the form of Harry James Potter and Naomi Wildman."

Picard spoke the same exact works Amelia Bones used four centuries ago, and Harry responded with the same affection and love. He could feel Ginny's magic as Naomi swore on her magic to love him. Evidently others could as well.

Harry and Naomi both glanced at the guests as they shuffled before the power of the oath. "Wait for this," Harry whispered. His turn came, and he said clear voice, "I promise to love and honor her, for the remainder of my days, sworn so by my magic."

Where Naomi's was a trickle, Harry's magical oath was a wave that washed across the room to everyone's amazement.

Even Picard seemed surprised. Harry leaned forward and kissed his newest wife before turning to the others. "Among wizard kind, an oath made on magic is a real magical contract, with real repercussions should the oath ever be broken. What you felt was our magic confirming our oaths to each other, and our magic mixing with our mutual love to ensure we will always be happy with each other."

"Thank you for that explanation," Picard said. "Now, as I understand it, we have one down and four to go."

After a quick change of dresses, Katherine as the new Lady Gryffindor went next, and once again magical oaths filled the room, followed by Diana as Lady Hufflepuff, Mary as Lady Ravenclaw, and finally Susan as Lady Slytherin.

"You really are going to love us for the rest of our lives, aren't you?" Susan whispered as they kissed.

They parted and he smiled at her. It wasn't a grin or a smirk. It was an expression of plain happiness, and it filled her. "I will love you," he promised her. She felt a surge of magic, and realized he had made another oath, just to her. "It was you who brought me back. Your willingness and faith to accept magic. Thank you."

There was a rather large reception that night. It was a room filled with curious dignitaries and Federation officials. Plural human marriages, while not illegal, were highly unusual, and never in such numbers as one young man with five wives. More intriguing to the historians was the truth behind the fall of Khan and the genocide of the last world war.

Harry did not give the historians, reporters, or dignitaries even a moment. He danced with each of his wives, over and over again. He drew energy from them and they drew it back from him, allowing them to dance and have fun well into the night.

They all stayed together as they walked with him back to their rooms in the hotel. They moved as if they had practiced, and he noticed there was no move for one to take him from the others. Rather, the six of them walked together, thrumming with shared magic.

"How do you want to do this?" Harry said. He was surprised by his own nervousness.

"The old fashioned way, of course," Diana said archly. They reached Harry's room and the oversized bed.

"That's not going to be big enough," Susan said with a discerning eye.

Harry removed his wand from the lapel of his suit and flicked it with a wordless enlarging spell.

"Much better," Susan purred.

Diana stepped to the foot of the bed and with a shrug slipped out of her transfigured golden dress. She wore nothing beneath it, and he stared at her lithe, beautiful form. "Me first, please," she whispered, trembling with need.

Harry looked around as the others slowly undressed him with gentle hands. "All together then?" he whispered.

"At least for tonight, all together," Susan nodded. "We're agreed." She slipped out of her own dress.

Naomi saw his eyes as she too slipped out of her own dress. "Do you like what you see?" she whispered.

As they slipped Harry's slacks down, he grinned. "Do I really need to answer?"

Diana stared at him hungrily. "Please," she whispered.

He carried her onto the bed and the others followed, touching and caressing gently. There was little foreplay—he could sense through their marriage bond that she was ready upon his first kiss. And so he positioned himself and slid in gently. She gasped, and then moaned as his magic swept the pain away. As he made love to her, he felt breasts against his back and hands touching him. He lifted his head and found his lips brushing against a pair of dark red nipples as Mary moaned. It was a bliss he never thought he would feel again.

He and Diana finished in a moaning rush, and almost immediately he started kissing Susan. He was hard in mere seconds and she welcomed him with legs flung wide. "Yes!" she hissed as he slid inside her.

They passed the night in a flurry of love making. Everyone had their turn at least twice, and for Diana and Susan, two more times beside. And when they were satiated, they lay on the expanded bed together, spooning while basking in the glow of their love.

* * *

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**Author's Responses**:

First, I realize this was probably the shortest chapter of the story. Sorry. It was necessary to transition to the last few chapters.

In the meantime, a big thanks to all who reviewed and commented on this story.

Now, for Questions and Answers:

Q: Please tell me the magical creatures are somewhere on Earth? At least call in Fawkes.

A: You will see. Promise.

Q: Couldn't he have just obliviated the memory of pretty much everything malleous related from white coats mind? No killing, no leaving an enemy behind to threaten him in the future, and no need to transfigure a man into a creature that probably no longer exists on earth anyways.

A: Yep, he sure could have. ;)

Q: You have a typo.  
"...She leaned into his ear, giggling already for her joke. The anticipation was almost two much for the toddler..."

A: Indeedy I do. Two for the road, too damn many to catch all of them. Yep, thanks for that.

Q: WTF?! Harry listened to that PC ** from Troi and forgot the lessons of justice, of war, and of fanatics?  
This story lost a lot of credibility right here.

A: I'm writing about a boy wizard in Star Trek. Not going for credibility, just fun reading. As I say all the time, if at any point you cease to enjoy a story, then please do stop reading it. On the other hand, the bad guy has been permanently transfigured into an ass. That seems a fate worse than death to a rational man.

Q: How did that resurrection ritual work? I doubt that the girls who'd never met some guy before were really willing to die for him, especially since they didn't even know what they'd be doing, as well as the fact that there was no enemy that was willing to die for him like Draco did.

A: The smartass in me wants to say: Magic. But the smartass in me also gets slapped a lot. So instead the intent was that by making the statement in the ritual and willingly shedding blood, they were at least magically agreeing to the formation of a magical bond with Harry. The blood, mixing with the horcrux (the heartstone of Hogwarts), recreated Harry's body, while the bonds restored his soul and psyche to that body. The reason he didn't have all memories is because the fifth bond was missing, and so there was a delay between being re-embodied and achieving total memories. That is the intent. Of course, we're talking magic, here, so it's not really intended to be realistic. If you want to see the actual Horcrux ceremony, read HP and the Four Founders.

Q: As such it was maybe a less exciting final battle than might have been featured, but it works in terms of realism.

A: I appreciate you making that point. From the very start, without giving the whole story away, I tried to help folks understand that this was not an action-oriented story. Yes, there were villains, but they were villains without any conception of what a trained wizard could do, and Harry was really the nuclear bomb of wizardry, so there was never any question. That's why also had the chapter interspersed with flashbacks to his previous conflict, to really put it in context.

Q: And you should have Wesley make an appearance.

A: I should, but I didn't.

Q: Speaking of Dumbledore and V-mort, what ever happened to them? Did you mention it earlier in the story (and I didn't see it) or in Four Founders? Or was their fate the same as in canon?

A: That's in HP and the Four Founders.

Q: Speaking of dark side, you mentioned you had some ideas for another Star Wars crossover involving Harry. How's that turning out?

A: A bit frustrating, to be honest. The alternate sequel turned into a third sequel to this story and Four Founders, but frankly by this point HP is so damned powerful that it's a little boring to write about him. I got about a 120 pages in and stalled. However, just in the past couple of weeks I started expanding another HP/SW cross idea that might end working better. When and if I get one finalized, I'll probably post the abandoned efforts on my Yahoo group. But that'll be a while. In the meantime, I'll start posting Last Jedi regularly when this fic is done.

Q: I suppose, but as they were planning on killing her anyway, that seems like quite an oversight.

A: Once the public became aware of Harry, the Malleus decided to use Deanna as leverage. They were actually willing to let her go as long as they got Harry. We all saw how that worked out.

Q: Aren't Cochran's the distortion used to explain how the warp drive works or something?

A: From Memory Alpha: A **cochrane** _(symbolic abbreviation C)_, is the unit for subspace distortion.


	21. The Diary

Author's Responses at the end.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-One: The Diary**

"They really want me to do a press conference?" Harry asked.

"I think it would be best," Beverly Picard said.

"And," Susan added, "since they're going to ask the questions anyway, if you do it on your terms maybe they'll stop pestering you so much."

It was three days after the ceremonies, and Beverly had already confirmed all five women were now in the very earliest stages of pregnancy. The veteran doctor was a little bemused by the fact that there was not an ounce of alarm when she broke the news. Rather, the young women squealed in delight and virtually tackled their mutual husband.

"So when would I do it?"

"How's an hour sound?"

Harry's eyes bulged a little. "An hour?"

"Modern media is very flexible," Beverly said.

"Oh, okay. Thank you."

An hour later, Harry and his wives stood at a podium in the media room of the Prime Minister's office in Geneva taking questions from reporters not just from Earth, but from other worlds as well.

The first question asked was, "You have somehow convinced the leadership of this world and the Federation that 'magic' exists," the Vulcan reporter said dryly. "However, the existence of magic has been thoroughly disproven by logical and scientific examination. I therefore ask what means of technology you use to simulate magic?"

"I use magic to simulate magic," Harry said. "Let me demonstrate." He then turned the Vulcan into an ass to the shock of the other reports. "Don't worry," he added, "I'll change him back when we're done. Next question, please?"

"Will you turn me into an animal?" a now timid woman said.

"Is that a question or a request?"

She stammered, and then sat down flushing brightly while another, braver reporter stood. "Mr. Potter, was it normal for 'wizards' of your time to have multiple marriages?"

"Good question," Harry said. "The reporters at the time accused the Minister of Magic and the headmaster of my school of having loose morals and of running a harem, if you want the perspective of the time. It was very unusual. But then again, mine was an unusual case. And no, please, I do not want to go into my early life. I have many painful memories that I would rather not have dragged up right now. Next question."

"What are you going to do now?"

"I'm going to live and love my family," he said. "I'm going to try and find out what traces of the magical world survived, and what I can do to perhaps bring some elements of it back. While I doubt we'll ever have dragons flying in the skies again, or giants stomping through the cities, we might find some of the more common magical herbs and plants. There were common potions that could re-grow bones or organs in minutes. There was another potion that forced the drinker to tell the truth. I think it would be useful to see if the base ingredients for these types of potions still exist."

"Will you stay on Earth?"

Harry blinked. "Where else would I go?" he asked with genuine curiosity. The thought had never even occurred to him.

* * *

That night, Susan pulled out the Book, as they were calling it, and the melted sword.

He looked from the two artifacts, then at the women around him. "You know, I feel really stupid."

"I'm almost afraid to ask why?" Mary said.

Harry placed his wand on the hilt of the sword. "_Finite incatatum_."

The sword glistened for a moment and then seemed to expand and reform until they were staring at a meter-long blade of exquisite beauty. "It was glamoured," Harry said. "A very powerful glamour to last as long as it did."

He then looked at the book. "And this is under a glamour as well. _Finite incatatum_."

Suddenly the charred edges of the book disappeared. The worn brown color filled into a rich black color. "There are enough preserving spells on this book that it could have survived ground zero of a nuclear weapon," he said. The ladies leaned forward, so he placed the book on the table and opened it.

It was empty. Each page was blank, save for the one page explaining the ceremony. "Clever," Harry whispered.

He conjured a pen and wrote on the first page. "I am Harry James Potter." The written words seemed to sink into the page until they disappeared.

The ladies, including Beverly now, watched in awe as ink letters floated up as if from a depth within the page. _Name the first task._

"Dragons," he wrote.

_Where did your first Hogwarts letter go to?_

"Cupboard under the stairs, Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey."

_Who did you love the most?_

Harry grinned. "Luna."

_Prat. _

Harry laughed in delight while his new wives stared on in surprise. "Harry," Naomi whispered, "is the book alive?"

"Don't know, probably not, though," he said. He wrote, "Hermione, did you make the book a horcrux?"

_As much as I wished to kill that brother-in-law of yours, I found I could never surrender my soul so easily. This is a runically powered matrix of my personality and knowledge. I created it while Ginny and I tried to truncate Margaret's magic. I am assuming that our plan worked? What year is it?_

"It is 2392," Harry said.

_It is good that I am dead, because I would have fainted otherwise. That was much longer than we planned for. _

"Green left a legacy organization that hunted down and killed muggleborns."

_Antonius Greengrass should have killed that child._

"Or loved him."

_Yes, that would have been better. Are you well, my love?_

"I am. Do you know what happened?"

_I assume that Green caught us and killed us. We knew that we were your only true weakness. But there was so much to do. So much to save._

"I can find no trace of our world, Hermione," Harry wrote. "Were you able to save anything?"

_We saved everything._

Harry breathed hard a moment. "Where is it?" he asked. Then, realizing he spoke, he took the pen and repeated the question.

_I am not allowed to say outright. Instead I will say this. Go to the place we found the locket._

"Gringotts," Harry whispered. He wrote, "London was destroyed in the war. There is no Gringotts."

_I hope you are wrong, my love. Did Daphne remain behind? She told us she was going to haunt her brother if he ever caught us._

"She did, to his dying day. She's moved on now."

_Good. I hope to see her on the other side of the veil. And you, Harry. Are you all right?_

Harry looked up from the book and looked each of his wives in the face. He realized his cheeks were moist. "The bonds formed anew with five beautiful young women," he wrote. "You would like them, Hermione. They're all much smarter than I am. Daphne gave us her blessing, and they are using your wands. The new Lady Gryffindor is named Katherine Dunningham. Imagine Daphne with blonde hair."

_So my namesake is sexy and smart. I hoped and prayed that if we were successful and Margaret was able to revive you, that you would find love again. You were the single most loving person I ever knew. Even though you were abused and neglected as a child, you were the best father I could have ever imagined, the best husband I could have ever hoped for, and the best friend I could have ever wanted. I have always, and I will always, love you Harry James Potter, and I too add my blessing to Katherine and your other wives. I hope they realize how lucky they are to have you. Know that I and your first wives are watching with love in our hearts. When the time comes for you to rest again, we will welcome you and our young sisters with open arms._

Harry put the pen down and gently closed the book. He knew he was crying, but he didn't care. He looked up at Katherine. "That was Hermione, the first Lady Gryffindor," he whispered.

He stood up, smiled at all of them, and walked quietly back to his room. He shut the door and did not come out.

Back at the table, Beverly looked around at five teary faces. The ladies looked as if they were about to run after him. "Leave him be," she told the young women. "It's very obvious that he loves you all, but if you think about it, he hasn't really had time to grieve for his first wives. I know from experience that it's the quiet moments like this when grief hits the hardest. Give him an hour, and then go in and shag his brains out."

"Is that an order, Doctor?" Susan asked. She wiped a tear away and smiled even while she cried.

"It is a suggestion," Beverly said. "From someone who lost a spouse in her youth. He needs time to grieve, but he also needs to be reminded of just how much he has to live for. If you need me, please let me know."

They took her word as law and waited an hour before the five of them walked in to find Harry standing at the window staring out over the beautiful city. They did not speak as they walked up to him. By some unspoken agreement, it was Katherine who took his hand and led him to the bed.

They did not make love at first, however. Instead, as they lay down, Katherine said, "Tell me about Hermione. What was her favorite food?"

They spent the next four hours listening to Harry talk not just about Hermione, but about Luna Lovegood, Daphne Greengrass, Susan Bones and Ginny Weasley. And then about their children and grandchildren. He did not dwell on the war or his losses. Rather, he remembered the good times he had with his first family. After a while, the tears dried and he laughed as he shared funny memories or jokes of the many genuinely good times they had together.

He wasn't even aware of when the ladies stripped him. He must have helped, though he could not say when. He just knew that Katherine said, "Tell me about her favorite subjects," even as she mounted him, took his shaft and guided it inside of her body.

They made love gently, and after a while Harry stopped talking. As soon as he finished, Katherine climbed off and Diana instantly took her place. And as the day ended, Harry lost himself in the new life he had made in this new world.

* * *

The First Lady of Earth looked up in surprise when five people appeared in her office the next morning with a "pop." Instantly security alarms went off, though she cancelled them just as her security contingent rushed in.

Harry grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, guess I shouldn't have done that."

"It's good to keep them on their toes. You look like you're…ooof." She had to stop when Harry walked resolutely around her desk, leaned down and hugged her hard.

When he finally let go of the furiously blushing doctor, he said, "You need to come with us.'

"Come with you where?"

"Back to Green's museum."

"Why?"

Harry's face darkened a little. "Those wands don't belong there. According to the paperwork I signed, I have the right to request reparation. I'm not really interested in money, but I want to restore as much of my world as I can. I think there might be something in England I need to find. But first, I want to reclaim what I know is ours. And…well, you need a wand."

"I'm much too old to learn magic," Beverly said.

Harry leaned down until his nose was an inch from hers, and grinned. "I'm older."

"Not the same thing."

Her argument, though, was cut off when Naomi took her arm. "Come with us, Beverly," she urged.

"You're our duly appointed mother figure," Harry said.

"We decided last night," Susan added. "We all really like you, and since you're magical like us, you're perfect for the role."

"You can be the godmother of our children, if you're willing," Harry said. "Please, Beverly. This is a part of your life. It's a part of who you are and more importantly, who you should have been. And because of that, it makes you a part of our family too. You've done so much for us, please let me help you learn this about yourself."

She sighed, and then suddenly giggled like Diana. "Oh hell, why not?" She tapped a civilian com badge. "Jean Luc, this is Beverly. Are you busy?"

"Just a budget meeting. What can I do for you?"

"Oh nothing, I just wanted to let you know I'm going with Harry and his harem to find a wand and become a witch."

"That sounds marvelous," came the warm reply. "Do you think you could magic me up some hair?"

Harry laughed. "There is a potion for that, if I can find the ingredients," he said.

"Don't you dare!" Beverly said. "My husband has the most beautiful head on the planet, and I will not have it ruined by hair!"

They could hear not just the Prime Minister's chuckles, but also the laughter of those in his meeting. "Very well, Beverly. Please ask Mr. Potter not to disrupt any weather control systems or blow up any cities."

"I'll do my best," Harry said.

Beverly then notified her staff that she was going to London. "So, air car, transporter?"

"Apparation," Harry said. "Everyone hold hands."

With a pop and a squeezing sensation, Beverly suddenly found herself in front of the Phoenix Institute. "That was…can all wizards do that?"

"With training," Harry said. "Not all can side-along apparate six other people, but I'm a little unusual in that regard." Around them, people were staring with shocked expression. However, the young wizard looked up at the damaged corner of the building. It was covered in a heavy tarp. He realized that it had only been two weeks since the incident and for whatever reason, it wasn't repaired.

"They couldn't repair it," Beverly said, following his eyes. "There was some type of residual anaphasic radiation that caused any patch to simply crumble again. They're planning on removing the entire corner."

"Then I suppose it's time to fix it," Harry said. "If you'll excuse me?"

Already administrators were running out of the institute to meet the first lady and the young man that almost destroyed their building. The director saw Harry walking alone to the corner and stopped. "Oh no," the woman said. "Is he going to finish us off?"

Beverly walked to the woman's side. "I don't think so."

Then, to the shock of all watching, Harry lifted off the ground and floated without obvious support to the top of the ten-story structure. He removed the tarp with a flick of his wrist, and then started moving the wand more. The director and others watched as the hole filled in, until in mere moments there was no trace that Harry had ever blasted the corner of the building apart.

He sank back down and walked calmly back to his wives. "Magic is so amazing," Diana whispered.

Harry beamed at her, then turned to the director. "What is your name?" he asked abruptly.

"Cherie Mallory, director of the Phoenix Institute."

"Director Mallory, my name is Harry Potter. The exhibits on the top floor belong to my people. I will have them regardless, but for the sake of courtesy, I would like your permission to take them."

She stammered. "I'm not sure…."

"You can bill Geneva," Beverly told the woman. "These are war reparations. Come on, Harry, ladies, let's go."

By the time Harry and the others reached the top floor, a crowd of spectators had gathered behind them. Immediately after they tripped the runes, the lights went off and Green appeared. "_Finite,_" Harry said before he could speak. The pensieve memory froze. The lights came back on. Harry walked to the large stone bowl. He looked around and transfigured a bullet casing from the destroyed Hogwarts Express into a glass vial, and then pulled the memories from the bowl.

"What are you doing?" the director asked shrilly.

"The pensieve is not a hologram, it is a magical instrument that plays memories. The memories cannot be stored digitally. And this memory is of my brother-in-law murdering my family. So I'm storing them in this vial." He then shrank the pensive and looked around. "Do you have any satchels?"

A nearby spectator said, "You can use mine."

"You won't be getting it back," Harry warned the young woman.

"That's okay," she assured him with a shy smile.

Harry returned the smile and then performed an endless space and feather-light charm on it. He dropped the shrunken pensieve into it. The poor director looked as if she were about to start crying.

Harry led Beverly to the far wall with the wands, then he took the elderly woman's hand. "_Revelo magicus foci_."

"I don't even think that's proper Latin," Mary said.

"Nope, I just made it up. Once you know the rules, spellcrafting isn't that hard."

His impromptu spell had the immediate effect of causing a sparkle somewhere deep within the wall of wands. He placed the satchel down with mouth open. "You might want to step back," he warned everything. He dissolved the adhesive agent binding the wands and then summoned them all into the bag. People around them watched in silent awe as in groups of hundreds, wands swished off the wall and into the three liter bag.

"How can it hold it all?" the original owner of the bag said.

Without looking over his shoulder, Harry dropped into his old headmaster role. "Magic can be used not just to change the physical nature of objects, but of space itself. I used an endless expansion charm developed in 1898 by a German wizard to give the interior of your satchel almost infinite space. From what I have learned of your modern science, I essentially created a pocket of sustainable subspace in the bag."

He reached out a hand a plucked a glowing stick from the storm of wands. He handed it to Beverly. "Give it a wave, Madame Prime Minister."

She did so and laughed with near childish delight at the show of red sparks that poured from its tip. A moment later, the wall was empty, leaving a meter deep alcove that ran the width of the building.

"Already, now for some brooms," he said.

"Brooms?" the director said, still wide-eyed from her missing exhibit.

"Of course," Harry said with a smile. "Didn't you know that witches rode broomsticks?"

"Just fairy tales," the director began.

"Some of those fairy tales can break the sound barrier," Harry said. He held out a hand and one of the older Firebolt models flared to life. His magic automatically restored its many charms. He placed the model on the floor before his impromptu audience.

"Katherine," he said, "you are the best flyer, do you want to try this?"

"Sure," the young woman said. She came to his side. Harry stood right behind her and took her right hand. "Do you really have to be that close?"

"Do you mind?"

"Never."

"Think of the broom, and say, 'Up!'"

Mary did as instructed, and the broom leapt up into her hand. Harry looked around at the many people watching. Perhaps it was a function of his mood, or the fact that there was no one trying to kill him, but he felt particularly magnanimous.

"Witches and wizards in the twentieth century had several travel options. The most normal was a network of charmed fireplaces that created a network of instantaneous travel we called the 'floo' network. The magic fire could carry a witch or wizard from one fireplace to another instantly. The second was known as a portkey. Anything could be used as a portkey—a common item was socks. Anyone touching a portkey would be transported at near lightspeed to the destination determined by the creator of the key. This was the most common means of international transport. It could also be used for more sinister means, such as abduction. I almost died at fourteen because of a secret portkey."

Nearby, Beverly found herself listening as raptly as the others. Harry spoke with an excellent diction and pacing. He sounded like an experienced, confident lecturer.

"Finally," he said, "wizards could enchant objects to fly. We primarily used brooms out of a sense of tradition. They were the most commonly used objects in our European tradition and so we stuck with them. However, my godfather enchanted a motorcycle to fly, while my father in law enchanted a small car."

He turned back to Katherine. "Climb on."

She did so, and then let her eyes go wide. "It's cushioned! I can't even feel the wood."

"Cushioning charms were normal additions to later brooms," he explained loudly. "Brooms toward the end were the work of professional artisans who specialized in specific spells. The wizarding world had its own factories and its own production centers. The difference of course was that we used magic instead of automation. The Firebolt company was a very successful brand, which is why I bought it. Now, gently push off."

Katherine did so and found herself floating a meter in the air. She narrowed her eyes, leaned forward, and the broom shot forward ten meters. She didn't even scream as she slowly turned the broom and came back.

Harry was grinning. "You're going to be a natural."

"I know," Katherine said with a matching grin.

Harry flicked his wand at the wall. Brooms pulled off and flew into the satchel, one at a time, a good hundred or so in quick succession. The poor director was actually teary-eyed.

"I won't take the Hogwarts Express," he promised her.

"The locomotive, you mean?" the director asked.

"It was the train used to transport students from London to the magical school I attended in Scotland. I remember when that," he motioned to the bullet-riddled locomotive, "happened. I had two grandchildren on it when it happened. Green's soldiers simply stepped out on either side of the tracks and opened fire on a train filled with seven hundred children. We destroyed the soldiers, but not before we lost almost a hundred children." Harry's voice cracked. "Including my granddaughters."

"How many soldiers, Harry?" Susan asked.

"A brigade. Around three thousand soldiers."

Those listening did the math. Three thousand soldiers opened fire on a train of children and were all killed after only a hundred died.

"It's time to go," he told his wives and Beverly. He looked at the director. "Thank you for your cooperation. You should know that Phillip Green was born Phillipus Saturnius Greengrass, the non-magical son of an ancient wizarding family. As was the custom among the older magical families, he was quietly fostered to a family in America to preserve the name of his family. He became Phillip Green, and in revenge for what his family did to him, he committed genocide against his family's people. Everything he did, which as far as I know includes the instigation of World War III, he did so out of a hatred of magic. Please remember that when you speak of him in the future."

With that, Harry lifted the satchel after thanking the woman who gave it to him, gathered the women in his life around him, and disappeared in a pop that startled all those watching.

* * *

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**Author's Responses**

Well, short chapter, few reviews. I suspected that would be the case, but regardless I'm thankful for the reviews I did get. Thank you all very much.

Now for everyone's least favorite part: Questions and Answers.

Q: Will we read about Wesley? Maybe an come together at the Picard's? We Harry rebuild Hogwarts as home of ** magicus? Will they get technology and magic work together?

A: As I've said before, no Wesley. Not because that's not an excellent idea, but because I just didn't think of it, and now there's no place for him in the story. I'm not going to throw in a character just for the sake of having the character show up. As for the other two, if you don't have a definitive yes in the next two chapters, then the answer will be no. I try not to give plot points away but with only two chapters left you'll know very soon.

Q: Will we be getting to see what effects Harry's presence on Federation Earth is having? You know children erupting into accidental magic for the fist time now that his presence is serving as a catalyst?

A: Eventually, yes. Not so much a plot point as an established inevitability.

Q: What is happening with Janeway? (Bitter old crone that she is...mutter...mutter)

A: Honestly I don't go further with her character, but we can speculate on one of two possibilities: 1) The realization of what she threw away wakes her up and makes her appreciate her life, and makes her try to go out, meet people, and maybe find life again; or 2) the much more likely scenario that she remains cold, bitter and resentful as she grows old alone and forgotten. I don't say this to be mean, but rather I acknowledge the fact that it gets harder and harder to change as a person the older you get. But since I don't say, I think you should use your imagination.

Q: But for everything to end all hunky-dory like this is not like you. *eyes narrow* Something's up.

A: I don't know why the fact that I torture and main characters, and in fact wiped out the entire Firefly universe in one story, makes people think I'm blood thirsty. (Sighs). Believe it or not, the story ends with hope, happiness, and maybe a little bittersweet-ness. It's not like my normal stories, but I liked it more so for that fact. I hope others like the end as well.

Q: Well, of course magic and warp physics are related. I mean, even JKR set THAT up with her description of apparition. It's clearly describing wormholes, which is a warping of space in and of itself to allow the wizard to pass through.

A: That was my thinking.

Well, thank you all again for reading, reviewing and commenting. This is now my second most reviewed story, although Bonds of Blood is averaging more reviews per chapter and will pass this one in the next few chapters. Still, it's been fun and I'm happy everyone chose to join me for the ride.


	22. Hermione's Secret

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Author's Responses at the end:

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Two: Hermione's Secret**

They apparated to where Diagon Alley used to be, which was not far at all from the Institute.

Harry shouldn't have been surprised at all when just a few moments later Beverly's security contingent beamed to their coordinates, followed by the Prime Minister, two reporters, and what looked like some academics heavily loaded with different scanners.

"Beverly," he said, "I've been seeing the most fascinating things on the infonets."

"I can imagine," Beverly said. "Did you see my wand?" She held it up and made sparks appeared.

"A very nice wand," Jean-Luc agreed with a wry, loving smile.

Harry found he liked watching the two of them. Though Jean Luc Picard had not a magical bone in his body, he had obviously formed a deep and abiding bond of love and friendship with his wife.

The former Starship captain turned and looked at Harry. "You've had a busy morning. My wife's security team nearly had a fit."

Harry managed to look chagrinned. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Jean Luc smiled. "Your little lecture at the institute was being transmitted live through the infonet. I do believe you are a hit as an instructor."

"Well, I was the headmaster of our school for several years. I admit I don't feel that old, but I do remember what it was like to teach."

"So," the Prime Minister said, "what are we doing?"

Harry knew better than to question the source of so much goodwill. Besides, there was no point to the secrecy statutes any more. "There was a magical bank near this side with many underground vaults. It was run by goblins. One of my first wives left a message to me that she was able to save some things from our world there."

"Interesting," Jean Luc said. "You do know this was ground zero for a nuclear weapon?"

"So was Hogwarts," Harry pointed. "The Goblins might not have had any one wizard like me, but they had some of the most powerful protective charms on their vaults known to magic. It's possible the surface portion of the bank was destroyed, but the more I think about it, the more unlikely it seems that the deeper vaults would have been destroyed."

"So what will you do?" Beverly asked.

Harry's shoulders dropped. "Not sure," he admitted. "I was hoping to find some clue as to how to reach them."

"There's nothing here, not even trees," Mary pointed out.

"Yeah, noticed that."

She stuck her tongue out, and Harry summoned her to his side to kiss her lips. She giggled at the sensation not just of his kiss, but of the magical summoning itself.

Harry let her go and considered the ground before him again. "You know," Mary said, "an echolocation scan could determine if there's anything under there."

"Really?"

Mary nodded and pointed to the two academics who came with Jean Luc. "Those are archeologists, I bet."

The two nodded eagerly. "Can you scan for subsurface structures?" Harry asked them.

"Yes, sir!" the both piped. They ran forward and took out a larger scanner about the size of their head. A long spike shot down from the bottom of it. The two of them shoved the spike into the ground.

Both their eyes widened. "This is impossible," one said.

"Sounds like they found something," Mary said.

"Indeed," Jean Luc said. He walked over to the two and looked over their readings. "Fascinating!" he exclaimed. "What has this never been noted before?"

"We never searched," the taller of the archeologists said. "At first because of radiation, then because the British memorial commission's turning it into a park. There was never any need."

"Let me guess," Harry said. "A massive network of caverns with lifesigns?"

"Yes," Jean Luc said.

"How deep?"

"The nearest cavern has a passage not three meters below us," the shorter archeologist said. She walked over the grass about two meters from the scanner and stopped. "Directly under here."

"Please move, then," Harry said. He took her place and said, "_Diffindus et lux!_"

The beam that emerged from his wand looked suspiciously like a phaser beam that cut easily through the soil. When he had cut a perfect circle, Harry stepped off and looked around. He only then noticed the spectators.

"Would you folks mind clearing a space?" he asked the nearest cluster.

The people moved quickly out of the way as Harry levitated a nine-foot thick, ten-feet wide circle of the ground up and away, resting it finally on the ground outside his immediately ring of family.

It should not have surprised him one bit when a swarm of twenty goblins emerged with halberds in their hands and war cries on their lips. The stunned spectators and even Harry's family screamed in alarm, though Harry noted the goblins did not immediately attack. Rather they formed a defensive ring around the breach in their home.

"We mean you no harm," Harry said in what little gobbledygook he knew. The language was coarse and made his throat hurt. Also, he knew about a hundred words of it, including those he used.

The goblins looked a little leaner than the ones Harry had known—a little less civilized and a little angrier. But they were definitely goblins. "Who dares violate our halls!" one of the goblins said in perfect English.

"I am Harry Potter, Heir of the Four Founders and Lord Hogwarts."

His words had an immediate effect on the goblins, but it was not the one Harry expected.

"You did this to us!" the lead goblin roared. "Your arrogance destroyed our world! Be gone, foul wizard, and leave us in peace!"

Though Harry didn't expect their rage, after a moment's thought he realized he should not have. "I have come to claim my vaults," he said. "The first vaults."

The leader goblin snarled and lowered his halberd menacingly. "Do you think Gringotts still exists, wizard?"

"Gringotts is forever, or so I was once told by your ancestor."

The goblin looked around the circle of humans. "These are muggles," he said.

"The statute of secrecy is no more," Harry said. "As much as you think you suffered, goblin, know the wizarding world suffered the ultimate price. It has been four centuries, and I and my wives, and our chosen godmother, are all the magic users left."

"Good riddance," the goblin said.

"Is it? How has business been for the past four centuries? The world has changed, Honored Goblin. The muggles have science that approaches or sometimes even surpasses magic. They travel the stars and visit other worlds. I do not stand here thinking I am superior to muggles because of my magic. I am humbled by their own power and science. But I am still trying to save what is left of my world, and the first Lady Gryffindor has told me the First Vaults hold the keys."

The goblin snarled, then looked directly at Katherine. "The new Lady Gryffindor looks scared."

"Not too scared to kick your head in," Katherine snarled back.

"Katherine!" Susan whispered.

The goblin, though, laughed. "And the new Lady Slytherin attempts subterfuge just as the original."

"How do you know who we are?" Mary asked.

"We are Goblins," the creature said proudly. "We created the first true bank in the world under the charter of Lord Gryffindor. We are keyed to the magic of the heirs and can see that magic in you."

Harry stepped toward the halberds, and then knelt down on one knee until he was eye-level with the lead goblin. "You are as surely a part of the wizarding world as any wizard. The time for hiding is over, Honored One. It is a time for us to live and be free. The threat has passed. And I will need your help. If I am to rebuild Hogwarts—if I am to gather the muggle born and create a new wizarding world, I will need the help of any magical creatures that live. Not as subjects, but as equals."

"We have heard such words before," the goblin said.

Harry nodded, held his wand to his chest, and said, "I, Harry Potter, Lord Gryffindor, Lord Hufflepuff, Lord Ravenclaw, Lord Slytherin, heir of the Four Founders, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamut and Chief Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards hereby swear and declare that the goblin nation will be given the same rights and opportunities as any wizard of witch in any future magical government to which they may become a part. So sworn by me on my magic."

The goblins eyes widened as the magic of the oath swept over them. "Mighty words, wizard," he said, but without his sneer.

"Words that should have been spoken long ago," Harry said. "There are no purebloods left to oppose me. If we are going to fashion a new world, we must do so together. Will you join me?"

"I am Rockfoot," the Goblin said.

"Honored, Rockfoot."

"You and your wives may come. The muggles must stay."

Harry stood and looked back at the stunned civilians. "Rockfoot, this muggle is Jean Luc Picard, Prime Minister of the entire planet. His wife is a witch, and he has been most helpful. May he come?"

Rockfoot nodded abruptly. "He may come."

Instantly Jean Luc's security team started to protest. "Why is it people are always trying to keep me from having any fun?" the prime minister demanded.

Harry turned toward the men. "He has been welcomed into the home of the goblins. He is their guest and under their protection, as well as mine. Frankly, he's safer with them. If someone tries to attack him out here, you'll just stun the attacker. In there, the goblins would kill the attacker and then likely eat them."

For some reason that didn't seem to make the security team members feel better. Jean Luc assured them it was going to be fine, and then with a broad grin he took his wife's hand. "I haven't had a decent adventure in years!"

* * *

There were no carts. Rather, Harry and the others followed the goblins down a long flight of stairs until they emerged into a magically expanded cavern almost a square kilometer in size which was crawling with goblins.

"Rockfoot, are you senior?" Harry asked.

"I am."

"How many of your brethren still live?"

"Only two thousand," the goblin admitted. "Our numbers decline every generation. Fewer and fewer births. Our arithmancers tell us it is due to the death of magic in the world."

Harry nodded—Hermione had once given a similar theory on magical creatures. Without wizards, all such creatures would slowly decline.

"Are the vaults intact?"

"Of course," Rockfoot said.

The goblins stopped and gathered along the path, watching them with large eyes and sharp fangs. Still, they made no effort to stop their progress. One young goblin even reached out a hand. Unthinkingly, Harry touched the hand.

The creature's mother shrieked and yanked the child back, but Harry paused. There was a darkness coming from the child. "Is he ill?" Harry asked.

Rockfoot translated the question into gobbledygook. The mother responded in kind. "He has the shadow flu. It kills more of our children every year."

Harry stepped toward the goblin. "Please let me hold the child," he said.

Rookfoot translated. Confused and worried, she handed the young goblin over. It was the size of a human newborn, though probably three in age. It had a glazed, slightly confused look on its sharp face, and only three sharp teeth protruding from its gums. The feeling of wrongness permeated the child.

"Ladies," Harry said. "I'll need you. It's a magical ailment, a failure of its magic to sustain her. I'll need your help to heal her."

The five wives simply placed their hands on Harry's back. He accepted the warmth from their contact and let it flow through him, into his hand, and finally into the chest of the deathly sick goblin.

He essentially just charged the child's magic. The goblin girl blinked as the cloudiness fled her large black eyes. She asked for her mother in gobbledygook, and Harry handed the young goblin back to her stunned mother.

"I need to go to the first vaults," Harry told Rockfoot, "but before I leave make sure to have all those affected by the disease brought forward. I will not leave until all have been healed."

Rockfoot was staring at Harry with awe, and dropped into a kneeling bow. "It shall be done, Lord of Light!"

As they continued down the path, Harry felt eyes on the back of his neck and turned to see Picard staring at him with a raised brow. "Lord of Light?"

"I was a messiah once," Harry admitted. "I saved the world from a dark wizard. Died, got reborn, so they made a church out of it. For a while there I thought I might even have deserved it. Then I lost the world to a nuclear war, and realized there are no messiahs, and that no matter how powerful I became, I could never save everyone."

They finally reached an area that Harry recognized. They were in the old vaults now. Rockfoot stopped. "Your blood, Lord." He produced a well-worn knife and Harry cut the heel of his hand without hesitation and placed it against the door.

The old connection reformed. Harry felt the other four vaults responding, and through force of will alone keyed them to his wives.

The door opened with a moan of rusted metal and the whirl of old magic. Everyone behind him whistled when they saw the piles of gold, but Harry did not care about that at all. His eyes first took into the fact that the vault had been greatly expanded. But more importantly were the shelves that lined all the walls, shelves fifteen feet high filled with jars.

Many tens of thousands of jars.

Harry stepped into the vault and peered at the shelves. They had large letters on them, given evidence that the jars were organized alphabetically. Obviously Hermione's work.

He stepped even closer and removed a jar from the shelf. He was in the A section. The jar he lifted was labeled as an ashwinder. Inside he saw a miniature fiery snake frozen with a stasis charm. He looked along the shelf and saw a hundred of the creatures in 12-ounce jars. He looked above the ashwinders and saw a shelf dedicated to only three jars labeled acromantulas. Below the ashwinders was a shelf dedicated to Augureys.

_We saved everything,_ Hermione had said_._

While the others stood around examining the gold and the magical artifacts with insatiable curiosity, Harry went down the shelf. Centaurs, billywigs, even two basilisks. Chimaeras, diricawls and dragons by the hundreds. Every magical creature he knew of, some sentient, some not. He even found a shelf of merpeople and banshees.

The other wall was dedicated to magical flora of every description, many Harry didn't even recognize, some he didn't know were magical at all. As he continued looking through the vault, it kept expanding and expanding. Eventually, however, the jars gave way instead to books. Hundreds of thousands, possibly even millions, of books.

"Harry?" Susan asked.

He turned and only then realized he was crying. The others were no longer looking at the vault, they were all looking at him. Even Rockfoot. "She saved everything," Harry said. "Our whole world. Every magical species, every magical plant. Enough to form viable populations. Dark creatures or light—if they had magic Hermione and the others saved them." He looked up. "Gods, they really were smarter than me. While I was trying to fight and save a trickle here or there of wizards, they were saving our whole world."

He turned to Rockfoot. "You call me Lord of Light? I am nothing. It was Hermione, Lady Gryffindor, and her sister wives, who were the true saviors." Flushed with joy, Harry swept the startled goblin in a hug.

"Our world is going to live again, Rockfoot! Gringotts will shine once more in the light! Goblins will have seats on a new wizengamut, children will learn charms, dragons will fly in the sky and unicorns will run freely through forests. It will all be like it was before."

Then came the cool, logical voice of Jean Luc Picard. "Mr. Potter, there are nine billion people on Earth. Where do you think these creatures will live?"

* * *

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**Author's Responses:**

First, I think I may have lied to you about the number of chapters. I may have said earlier that there were only twenty-three chapters. However, after a final look through there appear to be twenty four. So, after this latest post there are two chapters left.

Next, I'd really like to thank everyone for reading and reviewing. The response to this story has continued to exceed expectations, being only my second story to exceed 700 reviews. It may even surpass 800 before I'm done, which is truly gratifying. Thank you all for those reviews and comments.

Now for Questions and Answers:

Q: For some reason, I'm seeing a visit to DS9 and a chat with Sisko and the wormhole beings coming up, as well as Q, if for no other reason than for ** and giggles on his part. As for Wesley, just have him visit for two paragraphs to see what his mother is up to, then kick him to the curb.

A: Nope, no Sisko or Wormhole aliens. And no Wesley. Stories done, and there just is no place for him. Sorry. That said, though I normally don't go for them if someone wants to do an omake of Wesley showing up and PM it to me, I'll be glad to add it to a chapter. I don't normally go for omakes, but there has been a lot of interest in Wesley so I'll open that up for whoever wants to do one.

Q: I'm just wondering where The Traveler (See: "Where Noone Has Gone Before", "Remember Me", "Journey's End") has been while this screwing around with subspace and warp energy by the minds of sentients has been going on. Or is The Traveler a mage himself?

A: He's out with Wesley ;) No Traveler either. In fact, there are a lot of ST cameos I could have thrown in, but that just seemed...gratuitous. I had a fairly tight narrative and made a point of only including ST characters who had a legitimate reason to be in the story. It all comes back to authorial decision making, of course. For all the wonderful stories in the ST universe, this one is solely Harry's.

Q: Hermione's line about killing Harry's brother-in-law. I presume you mean Green. Or were you talking about Ron? :)

A: Although he probably had it coming once in a while, Ron was not her intended victim ;)

Q: When you were talking about the main methods of transportation, even though you had them Apparate, you didn't have Harry mention Apparation.

A: D'oh!

Q: Only problem with this story, i feel it is too short. it is very, very good, though.

A: I just like my stories to end. I've read some fics that go on for two or three hundred thousand words and eventually I just give up. I appreciate tight, well thought out narratives and plots. The multi-year re-writes have to be pretty extraordinary to keep my interest. Otherwise I prefer the 80000-150000 word stories and tend to write those myself. It's all personal preference, so there you go ;)

Q: In your universe, that could lead to a spin-off of Vulcan mages.

A: Actually, magic as practiced by Terran wizards and how it relates to other species (and Vulcans in particular) is specifically addressed before the story is out.

Q: Whatever happened to Draco after he stopped being an **?

A: He served as Minister for Magic after Harry took over as Headmaster and Chief Warlock/Supreme Mugwump. He was killed in the nuclear strike that took out the ministry.

Q: Enjoying the story more now that the sex scenes are slowing down and we're getting more of the return of magic. The potential is interesting. Could a good arithmancer speed up the initial calibrations of warp engines and "tweak" those already assembled, in essence doing what Kozinsky claimed he could do?

A: At least within this story, it's possible, since I linked arithmancy with advanced warp physics. And as for the sex--I honestly considered cutting out all the overt sex scenes because none of them seemed to belong. I did in fact cut out the marriages nights. And no, I won't post that version on my yahoo group because I just think it changed the tone of the story. I might even go back and remove the Naomi sex scene. It just didn't add anything and actually took someone of the innocence of the story away. That said--I really don't like going back to things already posted. So who knows.

Q: Only one problem I saw in this chapter. The locket was originally in 12 Grimmwauld place then stolen my Fletcher and ended up with Umbridge. It was Hufflepuff's Cup that was in Gringotts.

A: I did answer this question by PM, but just as a general reminder this story is a sequel to Harry Potter and the Four Founders, so everything that occurred after OoTP should be considered AU.

Well, thank you all again for reading and reviewing. After this chapter, only two more chapters remain.


	23. Where No Wizard Has Gone Before

Author's Responses at the end:

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Three: Where No Wizard Has Gone Before**

Prime Minister Picard's question hung in the air like a sentence of doom. The planet was full, Harry knew that. With the loss of ambient magic that occurred during the genocide of the World War Three, even magically hidden areas lost their wards. There were no more hidden packets of magical land.

And the muggle areas were thoroughly full. Though there was no need to keep arable land for crops, people did so anyway since the taste of natural grown food was always preferable. But in his short time in modern schools Harry knew that there was no room on Earth for a magical world. Not one in which genuinely dangerous creatures such as dragons and basilisks could live.

Harry sunk in on himself as the true impact of the situation hit.

"I don't know," he finally admitted.

Drawn to his sudden despair, his wives gathered around him and he clung to them. "I can't imagine you'd appreciate a drive of dragons flying over San Francisco," he said.

"It might cause some difficulty," Picard said. He picked up a nearby jar. "A basilisk?"

"Sixty-foot snake with the deadliest venom known and can kill with a glance. I had to fight one when I was twelve. Another time I almost died." Harry looked at the end. "About the only magical creatures not here are nundus. Just as well—it would take a hundred wizards to catch even one, and even then I'm not sure we'd want a creature that could wipe out a whole town with its breath just for lunch."

He grabbed a pile of gold. "Never really cared for the money, and now it really doesn't mean all that much."

"I'm sure it could be translated into credits in some fashion," Jean Luc said. "Gold is still a precious metal and has value for its characteristics."

"Like using it to make gold-pressed latinum," Beverly said. "Think about it, Jean Luc. Goblins and Ferengi. They would end up owning the whole Federation."

Rockfoot coughed. "You say that is a bad thing," he said without a trace of humor. Then again, Harry never could tell when a goblin was trying to be funny. They found odd things to be humorous.

"There is nothing to do right now," Harry finally said. "Rockfoot, as senior of the Brethren, would you accompany us to the surface? Earth is now a member of a large interstellar organization that respects all species. Whatever agreement we may make for our magical world, the Brethren also deserve to be recognized as victims of Green."

"The squib who killed your kind?" Rockfoot. He spat—it was a very large globule of phlegm too. "We curse his name. I shall go with you."

Before they left, Harry kept his promise and with the help of his wives healed twelve more children afflicted with the shadow flu. The goblins gave respectful bows as they made their way back to the surface.

By the time they arrived back to the surface the whole area had become a media circus held back by a line of Earth security. Harry was not surprised to see a line of Federation officials as well. Rockfoot appeared stunned. "What is this?"

"The new world, my friend," Harry told the goblin. "And like it or not, it is time for us to join it."

* * *

It took four days, but eventually the Goblins were recognized by the Federation and Earth as a new sentient species and natives of Earth, and were then classified as partner species of Homo Magicus. Once the paperwork was signed, Rockfoot was taken back to his hole. A plain structure had been built around it, giving the goblin guards a sense of security.

The world seemed to twitter with the added, independent verification of Harry Potter's claims. Suddenly, magic was real.

It didn't matter to the young man, though. They returned to their suite in Geneva while Terran bankers arranged meetings with Rockfoot to formalize a medium of exchange. In another week, Harry received notice of his assets in modern credits.

"You're still rich," Diana noted when he showed it to her.

"Thought money didn't mean much."

Diana shrugged. "It does when you don't have any."

Remembering Ginny, he smiled down at her and kissed her until she was pink. Once started, he found he couldn't stop, and before the hour was up the two had made love twice.

Eventually, they moved into Margaret Ginevra Potter Dulheim's house in Scotland. They did this because they felt guilty over continuing to live off of Parliament, and also because the hotel never felt like home to them.

When they arrived at Margaret's house, though, Harry pointed out the runes of safety and comfort that his granddaughter had inscribed around the frame of the front door. "She didn't have a great deal of magic to work with, but she had enough to do those."

They worked, too, and within days the new family felt at ease and comfortable.

It was the following week, a week spent gardening and repairing the house, that the chime announced a visitor. It was Naomi who answered it and she grinned at their visitors. "Doctor Riker! Admiral!"

"Will and Deanna, please," Will said. "You're not on duty right now."

"Okay," Naomi said. "Please come in!"

"You're not showing yet," Deanna noted as they came in.

"I detected it very early," Naomi said as she showed them into the house. "There is a tiny little bump there, but it should be getting more noticeable soon. How are you?"

Riker put a briefcase on the coffee table and smiled. "We're both fine. This is a nice house."

"Well, it officially belongs to Susan through Margaret's will. Turns out Margaret was Harry's granddaughter, can you believe that?"

"Where are the others?"

"I think they're in the garden out back. Would you like some tea?"

By the time tea was prepared the three wandered into the very large back yard and found Harry, Katherine, Mary, Susan and Diana toiling away happily in the garden. Harry was teaching them twentieth-century rock songs while they were teaching him twenty-fourth century popular songs.

All of them paused when they saw their visitors. "Hello!" Harry said brightly. "Would you like to try an alamint leaf?"

"A what?" Deanna asked.

"Alamint—a magical genus of mint. Think of it as a non-addictive stimulant slash muscle relaxant slash mental aid."

"I'll try one," Will said. "I could use all the mental help I can get."

Harry handed over what looked like a normal mint leaf. Will shrugged and put it in his mouth without hesitation, then grinned. "Wow. That was…I could feel it immediately."

"That's magic. I couldn't believe that Margaret maintained a true witch's garden. I bet other than my vaults, there are plants here that don't grow anywhere else in the galaxy. So, what can I do for you?"

"We wanted to visit," Deanna said.

Will grinned. "She wanted to visit. I actually came for a reason." He lifted his soft-sided briefcase onto his lap and opened it up. He removed a thick stack of flattened scrolls. "I believe these are yours. We recovered them from the Malleus headquarters. I remembered what you had said about census scrolls and realized that's what we were looking at."

Harry eagerly accepted the scrolls. One was actually the old Hogwarts scroll. The last name had a birthday of 2140, and a date of death as 2151. He felt a chill on his spine. "The Malleus' last victim in England," he said.

He placed a hand on the name, saddened. Little Chin Hadsworth died over two centuries ago, but still Harry felt sad that the boy died as a child, never knowing why.

The moment his finger touched the scroll, though, a name appeared. Will, Deanna and Naomi all leaned over with interest. "Astele Merrick, DOB 2381." Making her eleven.

Suddenly another name appeared, then another and two more.

"Harry, what's happening?" Naomi asked.

Harry stared at the scroll in wonder. "Ever hear the story of Peter Pan?" he asked. "Do you remember the part where Tinkerbell was dying because children didn't believe any more?"

He reached over and took the American scroll. The last name on that one was 2210. However, the moment he laid his hand on it several names appeared. Most were school age or younger, but several looked as if they were young adults.

"People are beginning to believe in magic again," Harry said. "Latent magical cores are awakening. Even if they aren't around magic, on some level these children know now that magic is real."

This caught Susan, Diana, Katherine and Mary's attention and they left their chores to join the group looking at the scrolls. Harry placed them all out on the table. There were three scrolls for Europe, two for the Americas, two for Africa, three for Asia and just one for Australia. Upon Harry's touch, each scroll added a handful of new names. After all was tallied, there were almost forty names from around the world.

"So what do we do?" Susan asked.

Harry's grin faded a little. "I don't know," he admitted. "It's not like we can bring them all to Hogwarts."

"Does it have to be Hogwarts?" Will asked. "Seems it could be any building at all."

Harry shook his head. "Thing is, I'm just not how relevant magic is. Science has come so far, will their lives really be any better knowing magic? Deanna, you know how bad my knowledge of science was. That wasn't an accident—we didn't teach any of the natural sciences as you know them at Hogwarts. We taught magic because that was how we lived. But I'm not sure magic would be any better."

Katherine lifted her wand and transfigured a leaf of grass into a small mouse, which scurried off. "I was training to be in Starfleet. Now I know magic." She blushed. "A little bit, anyway. Why does it have to be one or the other?" she asked. "Why not teach a combination? Most children now receive basic skills through a neural imprint. How else could we be studying thermal dynamics in high school? You could sponsor a school that has a mixed curriculum of science and magic."

"Actually, for any type of accreditation and funding you would need to have some required subjects," Deanna noted.

"Guess that means we need to take our equivalency tests," Susan said. The others looked at her. "Technically we never finished high school, remember?"

* * *

The discussion went late into the afternoon and continued over a dinner cooked by Harry personally over an open flame grill in back. Vegetables from the garden with cubes of beef and shrimp seasoned and served over a bed of rice pilaf. The only pause in the conversation was when they ate.

The next day the five wives applied to take their high school equivalency tests, which they assured Harry would be no problem, while Harry and Deanna (and eventually Beverly, who came without a moment's hesitation when she heard what Harry and Deanna were doing) began working on a proposal for a new school of magic.

They pulled the required Earth curriculum into a magical curriculum that concentrated on the essential subjects such as transfiguration, charms, arithmancy and ancient runes. Harry doubted the need for defense against the dark arts since there were no wizards who knew the dark arts, and they still lacked sufficient ingredients or creatures to bother with potions or care for magical creatures.

On the Tuesday after they submitted their grant proposal, Harry and Naomi walked the halls of the Edinburgh Public Education Testing Facility while his wives completed their equivalency exams. It was a five hour period, but when they emerged every one of them were grinning.

"I guess that means you did well," Harry said.

The four of them grinned and tackled him in a group hug while Naomi laughed.

The Parliamentary Council on Education asked for a presentation the following week. Harry visited Rockfoot and pulled several early year textbooks out and copied them, then went with his wives and Beverly, who was serving as his sponsor. He demonstrated several pieces of early transfiguration, explained the principals behind the magic and the methodology behind his teaching approach. The books were ones Hermione and his wives helped him prepare after he succeeded Minerva as headmaster ten years after he graduated. The texts were, without exception, clearly written, well diagrammed and written in a much more accessible language.

The council was suitable impressed with his magic expertise, but had issues with his mundane background.

"I won't be teaching that," he said clearly. "I was headmaster for a magical school for many years. Though I look young, I have memories of another life in which I taught and ran a school for nearly two decades. As such, I also know my own limitations. In addition to my duties, I myself will be attending classes in this school system until I can take my own equivalency tests."

"Will your school discriminate against non-magical students?" asked one of the council members.

"That's a difficult question to answer in the way you obviously want answered," Harry said. "If a condition of having a school means having it open to all regardless of magical talent then I suppose we could do that, but how can I teach a magic to a student that is physically incapable of performing magic?"

"Well, that's a problem," the council member said. It was an older man from Cairo. He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. "It is a basic tenant for any education institution that it be made available to any willing student, regardless of race, religion or any other identifier by which a student could be subject to discrimination or differential treatment. It sounds to me like you wish to create a school so you can treat a small handful of students differently than the rest."

"So you have no magnate schools?" Harry says. "No special academies that target specific skill sets?"

"Oh, we do," the council member said, "but they are open to anyone who wishes to enroll. They are not allowed to target individual potential students as you are proposing. Publicly funded secondary schools on Earth are not allowed to recruit students, and private schools are not allowed to discriminate against students if they wish to retain accreditation." He managed to sound smug as he spoke and Harry realized that the man would never support anything with magic in the name.

The other council members did not seem to have a solid opinion, but no one appeared to be as for him as the Cairo man was against. Harry considered the council in silence while behind him he could feel his wives stewing in anger. Beverly kept silent and he knew she did so because of politics. The Cairo man was also in Parliament, and was in a political party in opposition to her husband.

"What is your name, sir?" Harry asked.

"I don't see…."

"What is your name, sir."

"Abdullah Yasef."

"Mr. Yasef, is your opposition to this school based on legitimate concern for students, or because the wife of your political enemy is a sponsor?"

"I don't see that it matters one bit," Yasef dismissed. "Regardless of any motivation you may wish to assign, Mr. Potter, my points remain valid. I will not agree to either funds or accreditation for a school that treats one segment of our population different from another. And if you wish to make that spurious argument you used on the Federation to be a different species, then I would suggest you have no business coming to this body at all, since at that point you would be segregating yourself and your 'species' out of the Terran population. You may think you are important, Mr. Potter. You may have even convinced some of my less capable colleagues of believing you are important. But we both know you are not."

Beverly snorted. It was a loud, almost shocking sound. Yasef blushed furiously but otherwise pretended to ignore the sound.

Harry squashed down an immature urged to hex the man. Instead, he merely inclined his head. "Then from one unimportant man to another, I bid you good day and thank you for your time."

He turned and walked out with the others on his heels. "We're just giving up?" Katherine demanded.

"It's political," Beverly said. "I should have realized he would give us trouble. I think, Harry, he would have opposed you regardless of who sponsored you. However, he took more pleasure in it because I was here."

"I know," Harry said. "But it's okay. We'll think of something."

That night he cooked dinner for his wives, Beverly and the Prime Minister, who decided that Margaret's wine cellar was actually one of the best he had ever seen. After all, she had centuries to collect.

"Tell me about Ronin," Harry asked Beverly after the finished a desert of cheesecake.

So Beverly told the story of how she returned to Caldos for her grandmother's funeral, where she encountered the anaphasic life form known as Ronin. He had lived in a candle and co-habited with Howard women since the 1600s.

After learning that Ronin had actually harmed people, Harry nodded absently. "Most likely not just a ghost," he said. "Probably either a poltergeist, or possibly even an incubus. Given that he could harm others but gave you erotic feelings seems to indicate that. Incubi have been known to lock themselves to a magical family line. There's a good bet that your grandmother was a witch."

"She knew enough about herbology," Beverly admitted.

"Indeed, you've always had a knack for finding useful plants," Jean Luc said. He was on his second glass of an excellent port and was feeling quite mellow.

"So, what was Caldos like?" Harry asked. "You lived there for a while, right?"

Beverly nodded. "There was a period of rapid colonization in the early 23rd century that was culture specific. There were colonies founded primarily of Japanese, or Chinese, or Americans attempting to adhere to a specific cultural type. Caldos was one of those worlds. It was terraformed by Scots. Although I wasn't born there, my grandmother was one of the founders. They favored 16th century architecture and even had cornerstones brought from different cities in Scotland for all the buildings."

Harry had a strange, pensive look on his face. "What was the weather like?"

"Caldos was a little colder than Earth norm, but only by a few degrees globally. The colony was in the northern hemisphere on one of three continents. Since it was terraformed it had no native life. The life there is all Earth standard. Sheep, horses, cattle—they have a large flora and fauna set of mostly European animals."

"Harry?" Susan asked, sensing something about Harry's now intense interest.

"How many people are there?" Harry asked softly.

Beverly, realizing where he was going, said, "The colony has perhaps a hundred thousand people. The rest of the world is unpopulated at this time."

"Human?"

"Mostly. There are a small handful of Maturins there who found they enjoyed the culture. They've fit in very nicely. Now, in case you're thinking it, the colony is not completely anachronistic. The school system adheres to Federation norms and it has access to standard subspace info net bands. There are even a few local feeds."

Harry's mind was spinning. "How do they feel about witches and wizards?"

"Mostly witches," Noami said.

The others snickered.

"We wouldn't know if we didn't ask," Beverly said.

Suddenly everyone jumped as Jean Luc hit the table with his fist. "Brilliant!" he said. "Absolutely brilliant!" He was flushed from wine. "A terraformed world with a predominantly northern European root culture with enough space for dragons to fly free." He blinked. "Your wine is most excellent, Harry."

"It's Susan's, really."

"Coming from the owner of Chateau Picard, I'm really flattered," Susan said with a blush.

* * *

Although Caldos was a Federation world, its population was small enough that it actually fell into a representative region of four human colony worlds who elected a member to the Federation Council together. However, they happened to be in luck that the current representative was in fact from Caldos.

Shira O'Malley agreed to meet with Harry and his family almost within hours of the inquiry, and with a grin Harry apparated the whole lot of them (including Beverly) to the Federation Council building in Paris. After going through a thorough security checkpoint, they were escorted through the huge, awe-inspiring structure until they arrived at O'Malley's office.

"Hello there, Mr. Potter," O'Malley said. He noticed she spoke with the hint of a brogue, just like Professor McGonagall in another life. "And Madame Picard, an honor. These must be the famous Potter wives."

Harry introduced each by their new formal names. Katherine, Lady Gryffindor, Diana, Lady Hufflepuff, Mary, Lady Ravenclaw and Susan, Lady Slytherin.

"Interesting names," O'Malley said.

"Godric Gryffindor was a Frank," Harry said as they all sat. "Slytherin was a Basque who left Spain after his wife was killed during war with the Moors. Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw were actually Viking witches who were captured in a major battle in the formation of the United Kingdom. They ended up joining Godric and founding the school of magic I attended."

"They taught history well there."

"Actually, I am their magical heirs. I lived their lives through dreams and memories. I know the history because I relived it."

O'Malley raised a brow. "Well, I admit I was somewhat surprised by your request to meet. Not too many people even know that Caldos exists, and I'm ashamed to admit we like it that way. We're a private people."

"We were once, too," Harry said with a smile. "We you aware that my petition to open a magical school here was declined?"

"No, I wasn't," O'Malley admitted. "I tend not to follow local politics. My term ends next year and I don't plan on coming back. It's a nice place, but a bit crowded for my taste."

"I understand," Harry said. He looked around at his wives before looking back at the representative. "Madam, are you authorized to speak for the colony?"

"I am," O'Malley said. "Why?"

"We want to immigrate there, and establish a magical community."

O'Malley's brows lifted. "Well, as Federation members we can't actually say no. But I'm sensing something more in this request."

"We wouldn't just be introducing a community," Harry said. "We would be introducing a world. Before the last world war, my previous wives managed to preserve much of the magical flora and fauna. I would like to use one of the continents to establish a magical ecosystem."

O'Malley blinked. "Mr. Potter, give me a moment here. What do you mean by magical fauna?"

"Unicorns," Diana said.

"Dragons," Katherine added.

"Basilisks," Susan said.

"Centaurs," Mary said.

"Every mythical creature you've likely ever heard of," Harry said. "Most aren't mythical. They were simply hidden from view for their safety and for the normal people of the time. These are magical creatures—without magic they die. In addition, we would likely bring the surviving goblins that have been in the news lately."

"Aye, those I've heard of," O'Malley said. "Quite the request you're making, Mr. Potter. Why are you asking us, though?"

"Harry thinks that Granny Felisa was a witch," Beverly said.

"I've heard of her, one of the colony founders," O'Malley said. "Right loved she was." She looked back at Harry. "Are these creatures dangerous?"

"Some are, absolutely," Harry said. "And some are actually sentient. The centaurs Hermione saved are as intelligent as humans, perhaps more so. There are merpeople who are sentient. I speak a smattering of mermish but it hurts my throat. For those creatures who are dangerous, I would establish reservations. For those that are not truly dangerous, I would allow them to live free. In fact, that's one of the major reasons I'm interested. That, and Hogwarts was in Scotland. It seems fitting that if I restart the school, it should be in a land transplanted from Scotland."

"You know we make a point of bringing cornerstones from Earth for any new buildings," O'Malley said. "It's tradition."

"And I would bring more than just a cornerstone from Hogwarts," Harry assured her. "I would bring the living heart, the Heart Stone, from the castle. We would also need to establish a magical portal back to Earth since most of our new students would be coming from here."

"A portal?"

"As far as I can tell from what he's shown me," Katherine said, "It's almost like a magical wormhole."

"It could provide instant travel between worlds, for magical and non-magical people," Harry said. "I started working on it from the minute I thought of Caldos."

"So you wizards had portals to other worlds?"

"No," Harry said. "I'm just…I try not to be immodest, but I am very powerful for my kind. I doubt anyone else could create such a portal, but with the minds of my wives and my brute force, it could be done. I actually got the idea after studying your warp field theories."

O'Malley gave a sharp nod. "Well, it's certainly something to consider. Of course you know I can't commit to anything right now, but I'll talk it over with the governor and we'll see what he thinks."

They stood and parted with handshakes. As he was walking out, O'Malley said, "Mr. Potter, have you seen dragons, then?"

"I had to fight one when I was fourteen," Harry said. "Scary beast. But magnificent too. As dangerous as they are, they deserve a right to live."

"Thank you, Mr. Potter. I'll let you know what the governor says."

* * *

sp

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**Author's Responses: **

Q: It's interesting, but why are you stretching out the posting cycle?

A: I'm not stretching the post cycle, I'm on a calendar. Like most, I have a job, young kids, and not a whole hell of a lot of time. So I dedicate a set time each week to post so that I also have time to actually write. Simple as that.

Q: Dell done hope there will be a second story about this when your done with this one ^^

A: If you're interested, I have something about that on my homepage.

Q: Considering all power Harry supposed to have, all the deaths that were caused and all the ways both star trek and Harry potter series have used time travel in the past it just seemed unthinkable Harry Potter would give up on his world, his wives etc and be happy with the new one.

A; There were some other points made, and I thank you for the feedback. I can tell you that this story met the intent I had going into it, and that overall I am pleased with it. That said, I had no illusions that it would please everyone. It was much slower than most of my stories and did not have much action. So, I accept the fact this story didn't meet your expectations, I thank you for your thoughtful criticism, and I thank you for giving it a try.

Q: What's next on your agenda after The Forever Mage?

A: I list up and coming on my profile for any who are interested.

Q: No Wesley or Traveler? GOOD. Glad you're not going in that direction. Those two could only distract from what's going on. Same conversation with Q, Apollo, Trelane, or any of a host of other similar characters.

A: Thank God someone's with me there.

Q: How (or even why) put a phoenix into stasis? Vampires? Naturally near-immortal beings.

A: Can a phoenix survive a nuclear blast? I'm not answering because I don't know myself, and it was because of that risk that they preserved even the sentient and long-lived species. Just to be safe.

Q: wonder how much hidden/expanded land there is that is not accessible to the muggles, entire islands and nations hidden or lost...

A: This was answered in the chapter, but just to clarify that world-wide wards started failing shortly after the war because of the absence not just of wards, but of magic itself. Ambient magic simply faded, and with it all the unplottable, charmed adn hissden land fell with it.

Q: Are you stupid? This is what space expansion charms are for.

A: The first question has been posed before, the debate is still ongoing. The second is a possibility, but one that, as saw in this chapter, will not be necessary.

Q: Is that a reference (Harry's messiah discussion), by the way?

A: Only to JKR's blatant Jesus analogy in Harry. He sacrifices himself for the good of his people only to be reborn.

Q: It strikes me that Beverly and Jean-Luc would make excellent advisors to the Magical World.

A: Beverly will be more than just an adviser, she's going to be a part of the Magical World herself. I rememebred a season one of ST: TNG when she was on the planet and was able to determine usable plants (I referenced it here, in fact) and thought, she would be perfect as a witch with a witch's garden.

Well, thanks again for the reviews and critiques. I know this fic isn't for everyone, so that makes the reviews I do get that much more important. Thank you.

And regarding questions about a sequel--truth is I've been trying to write one almost since I began posting this one. I have four completely separate versions of essentially the same story, and just this last week made a breakthrough. So, I can say that the odds of a third and final story for Harry's journey through time is a definite possibility. For those interested, I posted a preview on my homepage, but it will probably be a bit before I begin posting. It will take Harry into the SW universe, and truly it will have more in common with HP and the Four Founders than it did with Forever Mage. However, it will not be an alternate story, but an actual sequel to both Four Founders and Forever Mage. Hopefully folks will enjoy.

Thank you, and I will see everyone next week.


	24. A Home For Magic

Final author responses at the end:

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Four: A Home for Magic**

They received an official invitation from the Governor of Caldos to visit within the week.

They chartered a small atmosphere-capable starship paid for by the newly established Reparation Fund, and began the trip. Caldos was only 200 light years from Earth, so it was a leisurely flight of three days on the luxuriously appointed starship. Beverly agreed to come with them for no other reason than to see her old home.

The moment Harry walked down the ramp of the small ship to meet the governor, he knew. The sky overhead was almost the perfect shade of blue, with a few clouds hanging over a low, ancient range of mountains. The air was crisp and clean in a way that Earth could not quite emulate any more.

He received a little jolt when he stepped onto the surface of the world itself. As the governor approached, he put his hand against the soil and felt…something.

Was it magic? Was it simply the living pulse of the planet? It was Harry's first time setting foot on a world other than Earth, and he wasn't sure what to expect. But everything just felt…right.

"Mr. Potter," the Governor said, "my name is Stewart Finnegan. Welcome to Caldos."

"I knew a Finnegan once," Harry said. "He was a good friend."

"We try Finnegan's do try," Governor Finnegan said. "I hope you don't mind walking—we're a small community and try to preserve resources for emergencies. No transporters, and we're close enough not to bother with a ground car."

Harry liked the man immediately. "It's a beautiful morning, Governor. I would love to walk with you."

The governor nodded, and then noticed Beverly. "Beverly Howard, ye God, woman, you're still beautiful!"

"And you're still a prat," Beverly said with a warm smile as the two embraced.

"Are you a part of this magic nonsense too?"

She ginned. "Harry has taught me a hex that can make mucus bats crawl out of your nose. Would you like me to demonstrate for you?"

The man laughed at what he thought was a joke, but Beverly was not laughing. "What, you're serious?"

"The bat-bogey hex," Harry said. "I've taught it to everyone in my life. It's a very effective way to distract someone who means you harm. Put enough power into it, it can also cause damage."

"So you're saying that all this about witches and wizards is real? I thought O'Malley was having me on as an excuse to get Beverly home for a visit."

"No, it's real," Harry said. "And so was my request. There is an entire world in stasis on Earth, and I very much want to let that world live again."

Finnegan nodded, his brows furrowed in thought. "Let's go talk over a pint or two, and see what we come up with."

* * *

That afternoon they took the chartered ship to the eastern continent and did several flyovers. "We seeded it as part of the terraforming, of course," Finnegan explained as they spotted a large flock of feral, rough-looking sheep bounding over a the side of a mountain into a large valley.

"Most of the successful species have adapted in various ways. The sheep produce a heavier wool and are a little leaner. The wolves are a bit faster. There are a few bears, some wild cattle. Many different species of birds. The planting of Terran fauna has actually been very successful. The world was still relatively lifeless when we arrived due to an extinction-level impact even a few thousand years ago. You can still see the crater from orbit. It's as large as Scotland on the mother world. But the atmosphere shifted back to within a few points of Earth norm from before the Industrial Revolution, and we fight to keep it that way."

Behind Harry, he heard Katherine whisper, "It's so beautiful."

Without looking, he reached back and took her hand. "Governor Finnegan, this is exactly what we would need."

"We're talking about a rather large undertaking, establishing a new colony," the Governor pointed out.

"And you would be compensated by magic," Harry said. "The portal to Earth would be available to your people as well as ours. We could establish trade agreements for potions or other magical items that could be useful to your people, including magical labor. It would take a while since we would not have very many people at all, at least not at first. But over time we would grow, and we would happily contribute to and be a part of your community if you would have us."

They eventually landed on the shores of a large lake located at the base of a newer mountain range. In the distance, Harry could just make out the shimmering tides of the ocean. The air was the purest he had ever tasted. Clouds boiled on the tip of the mountains, threatening an early snow.

His heart beat in his chest from the power of the vision in his head. He felt five hands resting on his back; felt five warm, loving bodies pressed against him. "Can you see a school here?" he whispered.

"We can see it," Susan answered.

"Through your eyes, almost," Naomi said. "A great, brilliant castle filled with magic and love."

"We'll be your first students," Diana said.

"And your first teachers," Mary added.

"And the mothers of your next students," Katherine finished.

Beside them, the governor and Beverly stepped up even with them. Harry started describing Hogwarts to the governor. How the heart stone was nearly all that remained the school. But he also talked about his first sight of Hogwarts as a child, crossing the lake as a child. Of quidditch and libraries and friends long since lost, but never forgotten.

"We have the library," he finished. "All the knowledge of ten thousand years of magic is waiting for us."

"And there would be no secrecy?" the governor said.

"Never," Harry said. "That was the one weakness of my old world. Biases and prejudices from the religious persecutions of our people carried through the years into hate and bigotry. But those days are gone forever. The new witches and wizards will be born in a world of science and reason. We will make sure they know that magic does not make them better than any other people, simply different. And we will welcome those differences." His voice caught. "I can see it. Merpeople in the lake. We'll grow a forest over there—a few charms on seedlings and we can have a new forest for the centaurs and other forest dwelling creatures. A preserve for the dragons, and enough wild life to support them. It will be everything we could have hoped for."

"I admit it's a grand vision you have, Mr. Potter," Finnegan said. "A grand vision." He grinned. "This Finnegan you knew, Mr. Potter, back in your day—his name wouldn't happened to have been Sean, would it?"

Harry shook his head. "His name was Seamus. It was his son who was named Sean. Sean McGonagall Finnegan. The middle name was from our Transfiguration Professor, whom we all adored."

The governor laughed wildly. "We take our geneology a bit more serious here than we should. When O'Malley told me you were from the twentieth century, I went and checked what family I had from that time in the line. Sean M. Finnegan, son of Seamus Finnegan, is my many times great grandfather."

"Sean was a squib," Harry said, wide eyed with delight. "That's why Green missed him. Sean ended up marrying a beautiful muggle girl with hair as red as Diana's here. He left the magical world entirely—gave up everything out of his love for her. It was one of the few mixed marriages I knew of that worked. Who knows, Mr. Finnegan, there might be some magic in your family still."

"I suppose we'll have to find out," Finnegan said. He held out a hand, which Harry took. "Mr. Potter, it would be the honor both of Caldos Colony and me personally to have you become a part of our world. We'll have the immigration forms drafted and ready for you by the time we get back."

Harry fought very hard not to cry.

* * *

(Five Years Later)

Amanda Tyler sighed as her teacher droned on. The Teacher was Andorian, and her left antenna kept twitching toward the door. Amanda lost all track of the lesson as she became absorbed in that strange twitching.

Suddenly the door slid open and a counselor's aide stepped in.

"Amanda Tyler?" Madam Sh'rek said. "You're wanted in the counselor's office."

Amanda gathered her PADD and satchel and walked after the aide. She hesitated at the door of the administrative section when she saw her parents. "Mum, dad? What are you doing here?"

"I'm not sure," her mother admitted.

Just then the counselor arrived. "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Tyler. Amanda. Thank you all for coming. We were contacted by the Caldos Embassy regarding a rather unique educational opportunity for Amanda we thought you might be interested in. Please, come back with us."

They went into a maze of offices and conference rooms until they reached the last one. Amanda's steps faltered once again when she saw a face made familiar by exposure on the info nets. Young, handsome, powerful. Green eyes gazed at her over a welcoming smile.

"Harry Potter," she whispered.

"Hello, Amanda," the wizard said. "Mr. and Mrs. Tyler, my name is Harry Potter, headmaster for the Hogwarts School of Magic. I've come to talk to you today about Amanda. You see, she is a witch, and we would like to invite her to Hogwarts to study magic."

"A witch?" Amanda asked. She felt weak at the knees.

"Trin Gna's hair turned purple last week," Harry said as he motioned for the stunned family to sleep. "Right after she tried to pick a fight with you. Week before that, you were running to try and catch the rail when you tripped. Next thing you knew, you were on the tram."

"How did you…?" Amanda began.

"We have a treaty with the Terran Parliament and the Federation Council to allow us to monitor acts of magic and contact those who exhibit accidental magic. We are then authorized to contact you through your educational institution to offer you the chance to come to Hogwarts."

Amanda found it hard to breath. "Magic…" she whispered.

"When I was a boy, I was running from some bullies," Harry confessed with a twinkle in those bright green eyes. "I suddenly found myself on top of the school. It's a magical skill known as apparition—a form of self-teleportation. You'll learn how to apparate when you are seventeen since there is some risk."

"Is this school dangerous?" Amanda's mother asked.

"It's fully accredited by the Federation Council on Education, and as such we take every effort to ensure safety. Of course, magic presents unique challenges and also unique cures. For instance, it's not unusual for first time apparators to actually splinch, or to lose, a part of their own body. For instance, you may actually lose your whole leg. With science, the reattachment of a limb is a difficult, painful procedure and is not always possible. With magic, it is done in a minute. And the witch or wizard's own magic gives them a limited protection until they are restored. You'll learn to fly an enchanted broomstick. It's not unusual for first and second years to fall, even from great heights. Fortunately, witches and wizards tend to bounce. I remember a friend of mine in first year fell fifty feet with nothing more damaged than a broken arm. Didn't have any other bruise on his body, and the break was mended by that evening."

"This is hard to believe," Mr. Tyler said.

"I understand," Harry said. "And that's why we offer a tour to prospective students and parents."

"On another planet?" Mrs. Tyler said. "We can't afford…"

"We have established a magical portal that affords instantaneous travel between our worlds," Harry said. "It's the promise of future such portals that allows you to come to Hogwarts at no charge. The Federation pays for all tuition and expense, and in return we provide magic."

"How many students are there?" Mrs. Tyler asked.

"At present about two hundred," Harry said. "Our oldest students are fifth years."

"And your teaching staff?"

Harry grinned. "Myself and my wives, who are themselves the equivalent of seventh years, for magic. We also have a staff of six certified teachers specializing in traditional sciences and social sciences for accreditation purposes and will be adding more very soon. The goal of Hogwarts is not to remove Amanda entirely from the non-magical world, but to make her a part of both. Are you interested in seeing the castle?"

"Now?" Mr. Tyler asked.

"Why not?"

"Mum," Amanda said, "I'd like to see it."

Her parents gave a hesitant glance at each other before they finally agreed.

"Well then, let's start with a simple introduction to the art of apparating," Harry said. "Everyone hold hands, please."

"What are you doing?" Mr. Tyler asked.

"We're in Liverpool," Harry said. "The portal is in Geneva. So I'm going to apparate us to Geneva. Think of it as a magical transporter. Amanda will probably recognize the feeling." Harry winked at the girl, and by the time the wink was done, they were standing in another city. A black arch rose before them covered in strange symbols, with an unearthly, shimmering surface.

"I find the easiest way to cross the portal for the first time is holding hands," Harry said.

"Why is that?" Mrs. Tyler asked.

"Because it looks really scary," Harry admitted. "Couldn't be helped—the arch required a certain mix of iron, blood and basalt. With the runes, it looks quite formidable."

"Blood?" Mrs. Tyler blanched.

"My own, I assure you," Harry said. "Come along, now!" Still holding Amanda's hand, he led them through the portal before they had time to truly object.

The transition was instantaneous.

"Wow," Amanda breathed.

They stood on a different world. In the distance she could see a line of large oak trees rising up along the side of a mountain, turning eventually to conifers before they petered out entirely. The horizon was simply stunning as the sun rose slowly over a distant pristine sea.

"How…?" Mrs. Tyler said.

Harry smiled and then turned them to the mountains, and the fairy tale castle that rose along its foothills.

"Welcome to Hogwarts School of Magic," Harry said. "The premier and only, school for magic in the Federation."

As if on cue, the Tylers cowered as a huge shadow flew over their heads with a resounding roar. They looked up as a great red-scaled dragon flew over the school, behind herded away by twenty people on brooms shooting green hexes with their wands. The dragon roared in irritation and disappeared down the mountain.

"That's Snarky," Harry explained. "She's our oldest dragon. We revived her from stasis here, which was a huge mistake since she keeps trying to come back to nest. Fortunately, she's actually a relatively friendly dragon, so we don't have to hurt her."

Amanda's parents looked horrified, but Amanda was almost thrumming with excitement. "Will I be able to ride a broom stick like that?"

Harry smiled down at her. "I have a trainer inside you can try now, if your parents allow. Make no mistake, Amanda, you are one of us. You are a witch, and judging from your accidental magic you have a great deal of potential. And we would love you to join us here."

"I'd love it too," Amanda said, ensorcelled before she even stepped foot into the castle.

* * *

(Nineteen years later)

"Thank you, Madam Ambassador," Harry said again, "but as I have explained before, magic is not a skill that can simply be taught to the Vulcan people, and any attempt to somehow splice magical organs into a Vulcan would be a clear violation of the Eugenics Laws."

"Do you even bother to check if any of our population may have this talent?" Ambassador T'Plienth asked.

"Actually, yes," Harry said.

The ambassador raised a brow.

"The Caldos Accords with the Federation tasked the Wizengamot with monitoring potential magic users in all member worlds as available. Now, we haven't been able to set up scrolls for every planet, but we have established monitors for the largest human colonies and old Federation worlds, including Vulcan. So far, magic as we practice it appears to be a function of homo magicus only."

"But if a Vulcan or other should demonstrate this talent?"

"I would visit them personally with an invitation," Harry said. "The more potential races we could have, the quicker our population will grow. However, what experiments we have done show that the basis for our magic is anaphasic energy."

"Which is dangerous to most sentient species," T'Plienth said with a note of defeat.

"Magic itself is not dangerous to them, but the power by which we access it is," Harry said in a conciliatory tone. "I have been subjected to biases before, Madam Ambassador. That is why I specifically wrote into the Hogwarts charter that no student demonstrating magical talent can be excluded on the basis of race or creed. We have non humans here, but they are magical non-humans. Centaurs, a couple of vampires, two werewolves. We even found an intelligent giant. If one of your people should suddenly develop the ability to wield magic, I would recruit them not just to be a student, but to stay afterward to teach. But I think we both know the likelihood of that happening is low."

T'Plienth nodded, her face smooth despite her disappoint. "Perhaps so. Still, none can deny the benefits you and your people have brought to the Federation. What would be a three day flight back to Vulcan will be accomplished in minutes because of your portals. And your potions are simply remarkable."

"Thank you, Madam." Harry stood and walked her out through the halls. It was a weekend, and the school was bustling with children playing. The school boasted a population of almost six hundred now, with a large staff of teachers both magical and otherwise.

"You know," Harry said as they stepped out onto the lawn, "we do have an opening in our sciences department for a new teacher. I understand that the Vulcan Academy of Science is the most prestigious school in the Federation. If you have some new graduates who are interested teaching, I would be willing to consider their applications."

T'Plienth's brow raised again. "And if they should also study other classes?"

Harry smiled as he walked her to the portal. "Far be it for me as headmaster to dictate what my instructors do on their own time."

"I see," T'Plienth said. "I shall consider that. Thank you for your time, Headmaster."

"And for yours, Madam Ambassador."

A moment later Naomi popped up beside him. "Did she take the bait?"

"I think she did," Harry said. "Now we might find someone willing to fill that blasted position. Who knew it would be so hard to keep science teachers at a school for magic?"

* * *

(One hundred and eighty five years later)

Harry opened his eyes. The room was completely, utterly quiet. Too quiet.

He turned his head, ignoring the constant ache, and saw Diana's silver hair falling away from her face. Her eyes were closed and her lips were turned in a gentle smile. She was not breathing, and her cheek was cold and pale.

"Oh my love," he whispered.

Gently, he pulled his numb arm out from under the last of his wives and looked down at her with sad affection. He knew it was coming—they all did. After two centuries, even the most powerful witches and wizards died.

He stumbled around the bed until he stood by her side and took her in his arms. She was as light as a feather, reduced to skin and bones in her last few months as only her magic kept her alive. The castle was completely asleep, as well it should be. Even as light as she was, his own frail body was barely strong enough to hold her. He did so anyway.

He carried her down the stairs of his suite into the foyer. There, to his surprise, he found a small army of his children and their descendents. Over five hundred people traced their ancestry to him. He and his wives outlived all of their first generation of children, though many of their grandchildren were still alive. They had arrived last night, he knew. Come to be here at the end.

Though they were gathered in the foyer, knowing the end was near, most were asleep. All, save his and Diana's oldest granddaughter, Carey Marie Huff. She sat up when she saw him with her grandmother in his arms, and covered her own lined and aging face in her hands.

Harry smiled at her with love and affection. "It's all right," he told her in a whisper made hollow with generations of lecturing. "She passed gently in her sleep. I made sure there was no pain."

Carey nodded, her eyes glistening. "And you, Papa? Will you pass on now?"

Harry stepped before his oldest living granddaughter, who herself was over a century and a half, and kissed her forehead. "Without my wives, I am nothing. With them, I am everything. The bonds that kept my soul in this body are all but gone. But don't worry, they are waiting for me, Carey. All of them, those I have lived these last centuries with, and those who I loved before them. I can feel them all, calling to me. And I long to be with them."

"We will miss you," Carey said.

"But not for long, my love. In time, we will welcome you all with us. And in the meantime, I leave the school in your hands. You will be headmistress now, and I know you will do a good job."

"I love you, Papa," Carey said.

"And I love you," Harry told her. "And all your siblings and cousins. No man could ever ask for a better family. Please don't wake the others."

"I won't, Papa," Carey whispered.

Harry nodded and continued out of the foyer with the last of his wives cradled in his arms. Carey said nothing as she collapsed back to her conjured seat, weeping. She looked up and saw many eyes on her as the other grandchildren of her generation, and the great grandchildren after herd, heard what had happened. They simply stared at her in acceptance of their patriarch's wishes.

Harry walked his wife through the broad corridors until he came to the center of the castle. Pristine white stone walls opened before him, and he stepped into a room of pure blackness. In the center, a beam of light emerged, growing broader and stronger as he approached, until he stood before a circular pool of viscous pink fluid. From the shadows across from him a new figure emerged—a figure with brunette hair and a beautiful, matronly body. Eyes that shifted color looked across the pool at him with affection and love.

"Beloved," Hogwarts whispered.

"Hello, Hogwarts," Harry said fondly. He knew he was crying, but they were not tears of grief. "She's moved on. I'm ready now as well."

Hogwarts stepped into the pool and Harry followed, moving into the thick but warm and soothing solution that was the living heart stone of the castle with Diana still cradled in his arms.

"I love you so much, Hogwarts," he said. "As much as my wives."

"And I love you as well," the embodiment of the castle's magic said as she placed her warm hands on his ancient, withered cheeks. "You have fulfilled your destiny, Harry. Through you, magic has survived and grown strong. Because of you, the stars are a better place. And for you, all those you have ever loved are now waiting. Come, Harry, and rest at last."

Harry let the warmth of her touch fill him as he closed his eyes. "So beautiful," he whispered.

He saw a flash of brilliant white, accompanied by phoenix song. Then a voice so pure and familiar, Harry's heart broke from joy.

"We've been waiting for you, Harry," Hermione whispered to him. "All of us. Welcome home."

"I am home," Harry said as he cried in joy. "I am home at last."

Fin

* * *

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**Author's Responses and Comments**

First, and foremost, I need to give a profound thank you to JuniorMintJulep for her Star Trek expertise and beta reading skills. Aside from being a very talented writer herself (all nST movie), she also gave a very good editing of this story. I am in her debt.

When I wrote this, I went in remembering another semi-sequel I did. The last one, I was deeply proud of it and profoundly disappointed when it simply did not attract many reviews. So because this story had a similar disconnect from the original, I did not get my hopes up on reviews and reception. That was double true because this was what I would call a "soft" story. It was not action-oriented by any means. So for me to have received as many reviews as it did is a true honor. So, thank you all for your reviews and comments.

Q: Sequel sequel sequel...

A: There will not be a direct sequel. What I am working on takes the horcrux idea to its extreme conclusion, with Harry waking up eons into the future--in the middle of the Star Wars galaxy. 200 pages so far, with good progress and solid ideas to finish. I am concentrating on Bonds of Blood and Last Jedi, but it's coming.

Q: I DON'TKNOW IF YOU READ REVIEWS BUT IF SO KNOW THAT YOU HAVE A TRUE DEDICATED READER AND HAVE BEEN ADDED TO MY C2

A: Not question, but a kind comment. Thank you.

Q: Question though, how does Harry know that anything of Hogwarts survived? I don't recall them ever actually visiting the grounds. Did it happen off screen, and if so why?

A: They did visit. Once, when he was reborn from the heartstone (the first two or three chapters) and then when they returned in the chapter before he visited the museum.

Q: A magical portal to another world... I shall dub thee a Stargate.

A: There is most definitely a similarity. ;)

Well, that's it for another Darth Marrs fic. Thanks again for all the great reviews and comments. I do have forums up for anyone who wishes to comment or debate anything. In the meantime, I have Bonds of Blood and Last Jedi to keep me busy.

Good bye for now!

Darth Marrs


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